


A Collection of One-shots ft. Darcy Lewis and Steve Rogers

by Little_Plebe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers have a betting pool, Darcy and Tony are bros, F/M, Fluff and Crack, One-Shots, Steve and Darcy won't quit, that I post on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Plebe/pseuds/Little_Plebe
Summary: What it says on the tin.





	1. It's Messed Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was my Darcyland Secret Santa gift to live-me-later on Tumblr. She gave me a couple of prompts and I penned down this piece of fluff.
> 
> [Link on Tumblr with a graphic to go along with it](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/154680964369/its-messed-up)

The science lab was closing for the day. As usual, Darcy was the last one to leave. Steve waited patiently as she cleaned up after the scientists and switched everything off. Even at the end of a long day, she was a sight for sore eyes. The messy bun atop her head was drooping, wisps of hair falling out of it and framing her face. Her glasses were distractingly smudged and Steve watched in amusement as she squinted at everything while grumbling adorably under her breath.

“Here,” he said, gently removing her glasses and cleaning them on his shirt.

She grabbed her bag, her iPod and then turned to him with a grimace. “I’ve got to start making them clean their own desks before I kick them out for the day,” she complained good-naturedly.

Steve chuckled, carefully placing her glasses back on her face. He casually let his fingers trail lightly down her cheek when he pulled his hand back. If she noticed, she didn’t mention it. They slowly started walking toward the stairwell. Darcy was big on taking the stairs. Steve found it unnecessary yet admirable.

“You said you wanted to ask me something,” she reminded him suddenly and Steve started.

“Oh, yes. Um… would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, jumping straight to the point unlike last time when he had made it sound too casual and the time before that when he had made a colossal tit of himself beating around the bush and, in the process, not asking her what he really wanted.

He knew she hadn’t misunderstood the intent behind his question by the way her eyes widened a little and her smile turned fake. She tried to play it down, though, and treat it like a question between friends.

“I’d love to, Steve,” she began regretfully. “But I’ve got a bunch of chores to do before I sleep and I’m really tired. I might not even have dinner.”

The little Steve inside him was used to rejection but this hurt because Darcy was not like other women. She was smart and funny and wasn’t one to go for outer appearances. Judging by the amount of time she spent with him and her regular text messages to him, he had assumed that maybe she liked him too, that maybe he stood a chance with her. Either he was wrong, in that she was trying to let him down easy with what she thought were believable lies _or_ she was hiding something. The latter sounded a little too dramatic, so Steve was forced to consider the former option.

It hurt. “Oh, okay,” he said, quickening his pace. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Cool.”

He should have seen her to her room. That’s what a gentleman would have done. The flash of disappointment in her eyes when he had left in a hurry haunted his mind till he fell asleep later that night.

The thing was, he didn’t mind the rejection so much as her making up lies to go with it. Steve wasn’t a stalker or some stupid stranger on the road. He could handle the truth. He _preferred_ the truth. She could have just told him that she wanted to be friends and he would have accepted it gallantly.

He debated avoiding her the next day.

He couldn’t. He was too gone for her to stay away like a rational human being.

***

Tony loved and hated being Darcy’s agony aunt. Loved because Darcy was an inherently funny person and even her complaints sounded funny. Tony enjoyed her. Hated because every time he tried to suggest something or offer a solution, she would counter it with her own suggestion, pitching them both against each other in a bid to work out the best possible solution and, in the process, annoying the hell out of Tony. She almost always went with his advice. So at least that was a consolation.

That day, too, he was listening to her go on about something that had happened in Jane’s lab last night while he worked on the design of a prototype.

“… and I say to her, I say I’m your intern, not a human test subject. And she turns her head with a subtle flip of her hair, raises an eyebrow in a manner reminiscent of a certain female Avenger and quips, ‘could have fooled me.’” Darcy stopped to shoot Tony an exaggerated look. “I was like, the hell Jane! Just because I let Bruce experiment on me _once_ , doesn’t mean I’m gonna make a habit out of it.”

“Good,” Tony interjected. “You shouldn’t.”

“Right? I mean, science scares me, dude. A saner person would have left Jane months ago.”

“Why don’t you?” he asked reluctantly. He didn’t want to give her any ideas. He liked having her in the tower. But it seemed like a question someone in his position would ask.

Darcy shot him a look that said she knew what he was trying to do. She didn’t disappoint with her response. “You know why.”

He pretended to study his design as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “Because of… Steve?”

“Because of you, you idiot!” she exclaimed with a grin and a kick to his shins.

Desperately trying to hide how pleased her admission made him, Tony opened his mouth to snark at her when a super soldier walked in, smelling of righteousness and looking like freedom.

“Hey, Tony, I was wondering if…” he trailed away at the sight of Darcy perched atop Tony’s work table. “Hi, Darcy.”

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes when Darcy smiled and waved awkwardly at the blond giant. “What’s up?” she mumbled pitifully.

Steve glanced between them, his face unreadable. “I need to talk to you,” he said to Tony. “About something… but I can come back.”

“Okay,” said Tony, relieved. One, awkwardness irritated him, in that he couldn’t stand it. Two, he was pretty sure Steve wanted to talk to him about the repairs on his bike. And there was no easy or kind way for Tony to say that he was _not_ removing the nitrogen boosters and flame throwers from the two-wheeled monster. They were cool additions. Period.

Darcy moaned and banged her head against her Stark tablet once Steve was gone with a soft, “Bye, Darcy.”

“Woah, woah,” said Tony, snatching the tablet from her hands. “That’s valuable.” When she moaned again, he asked, “Why are you acting so hard to get? Just kiss him so we can all be happy. The sappiness is getting on my nerves.”

Darcy looked at him. “If I go out with him, I’ll eventually have to tell him about us. Won’t that be weird?” She paused as if to consider it. Then nodded and declared morbidly, “It’d be weird.”

“What’s weird about our relationship?” Tony asked, looking adorably defensive. “You love me, I love you. And we’ll add Steve to our group of three. Hey, that rhymed.”

Darcy giggled. “Do you even realize how wrong that sounded—? Wait, you love me?”

Tony paled and went back to working on his prototype. “No.”

“You said it. You’ve never said it before!”

“No, no, no! I said you love me and then I just… I just stopped talking!”

“FRIENDS reference. Nice.”

Tony huffed and poked her side. She slapped his hand away. “Go talk to Steve, taser girl. Put him out of his misery.”

For a moment, it looked like she would argue but thankfully she didn’t and Tony had to practically push her out of his lab before she got the hint and followed Steve’s footsteps.

“Whew,” Tony said to himself. “Kids these days...”

***

Darcy ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She didn’t really know why she was running except that after the chat with Tony, she was experiencing this inexplicable urgency to talk to Steve and tell him everything. She was a sweaty, wheezing mess by the time she caught up with him on the communal floor. He was on his way out of the kitchen with a donut in his hand when she screeched to a halt an inch from his body.

He looked at her in surprise. “Are you all right? Why are you panting?”

“Mid-morning cardio,” she joked. It fell flat on him as he continued regarding her with concern. “I… uh… I need to…” she peeked at him nervously. Why was this so hard? She had known Steve forever. She already knew he wanted her, if the three times he had asked her out was any indication. Then why was it so hard to talk to him?

Her brain helpfully supplied that she was scared of how he would react to her news. News of her relationship with Tony. It was a well-kept secret between Tony, Pepper, Natasha and her. Now one more person was going to be in on it. At the thought, Darcy took another minute to debate whether telling Steve was a good idea or not.

She looked at the concern in his eyes, at his patient expression while he waited for her to get her bearings, and Darcy decided that Steve was worth it. She was still finding it hard to put her thoughts into words, so she changed tack.

“Can I borrow a kiss?” she asked him seriously. “I promise I’ll give it back.”

At first, he merely stared at her, his blue eyes gaping wide. Then, the donut fell from his fingers and Darcy had a hard time reining in her amusement at his reaction.

“On the cheek?” he asked uncertainly.

Darcy shook her head and tapped her bottom lip, watching his eyes drop down her face. Butterflies erupted in her stomach when his eyes found hers again, his gaze intent. She stepped closer to him, took a deep breath and spoke.

“But I have to tell you something first and you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Okay.” He already sounded freaked out, wondering what it was that was making her so nervous.

“It’s just that,” Darcy began. “I mean to say that— Tony and I… shit! All right. Here goes. Tony is my—”

“Biological father?” Steve finished, looking bemused. “I know.”

Darcy gaped at him. “You know?”

“That’s what you were going to tell me, right?” At her nod, he smiled slightly. “Yeah, I know about that.”

“Wha— How? When?” sputtered Darcy. She tried to remember if they had told anyone else or if _she_ had told Steve in some drunken or exhaustion fueled haze. She couldn’t remember something like that happening.

“Natasha told me,” he informed her guiltily, adding quickly, “She didn’t tell anyone else. It’s just that she knows about… she knows that I…” It was his turn to fumble with his words. His skin flushed endearingly as he mumbled, “She knows that I like you more than a friend and she thought I should know this important detail about your life before I asked you out.”

His words calmed Darcy down, just a little. Still, she couldn’t help eyeing him dubiously. “And this doesn’t freak you out? Tony is your friend, your teammate. It’s messed up. It’s messed up, right?”

It wasn’t as messed up as she was insisting it was in a bid to get some validation and when he shook his head and simply said, “No. I think it’s cool that Tony has a family,” Darcy fell in love with him right there. It felt so good to hear him say it that she grinned widely and threw her arms around his shoulders. He let out a surprised laugh and held her against him.

“Now what were you saying about borrowing a kiss from me?” he asked when she pulled back, eyes shining.

“I said I’d give it back.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re gonna give it back, then by all means, take it.”

“Quit sassing around,” said Darcy, pulling him down with a laugh and planting her lips firmly against his.

He tasted just like she had always imagined he would: Right.


	2. A Broken Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a scene from a long forgotten story that I started more than half a year ago but couldn’t find the inspiration to complete. Steve and Darcy were being very stubborn, so I left them at it. And now I’m posting it here so that I can get over it.
> 
> [Link on Tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/154863061039/a-little-bit-of-shieldshock)

It was still dark when Darcy woke up. She lay still for a minute, feeling the cool night air on her face, and then tried to stretch the cramps from her body. It was difficult to move with Steve passed out on top of her, his head on her chest and arm curled possessively around her midriff. All she managed to do was stretch her arms a bit and arch her back, lifting off the bed for a second or two before slumping back down under Steve’s weight. Her tank top rode up her stomach as she shifted around trying to get more comfortable in their little cocoon of warmth. She pulled it back down hastily and murmured Steve’s name.

“Think you could move a bit?” she whispered. “I want to get up.”

A muffled groan emanated from him but he didn’t budge. Instead of letting her go, he tightened his arm around her.

“Steve,” wailed Darcy, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

It seemed that he had not heard her, but then he grunted and reluctantly lifted himself off her body, flopping onto his back heavily. He remained in this position till Darcy emerged from the bathroom and proceeded to crawl up his body, curling up on his chest. A hand immediately came to rest on her waist.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” whispered Darcy.

He exhaled loudly, his breath tickling the top of her head. “Neither am I.” A yawn escaped him. “What time is it?”

“Five, I think.”

There was a long pause where Darcy played with the hemline of his t-shirt and listened to his steady heartbeats. She almost thought he had gone back to sleep when he spoke.

“Let’s have lunch in the city today.”

“I’m going shopping with Jane and Wanda, remember?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Darcy lifted her head to look at him. “You don’t want me to go?”

Steve finally opened his eyes and met her gaze. “No,” he said, sounding uncertain. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time without any hint of hesitation. “No. You should go.”

“You wanna come?” Darcy didn’t know what made her ask that but looking at his face now, she couldn’t help but think it was a good idea.

Steve looked amused. “What would I do on a women’s shopping spree?”

“Well,” said Darcy coyly, “you could help me choose a dress for the fourth of July gala… turns out my boyfriend was born on the same day.”

“Same day? How boring,” Steve muttered drily.

“And he’s really fond of the colors red and blue… very patriotic, you see. So I’m thinking a backless blue dress or a see-through red gown—”

Darcy squealed with mirth when Steve flipped them and proceeded to blow raspberries on her neck.

“Okay okay,” she laughed. “No backless blue dresses.”

“Nothing see-through either,” he said, blowing another raspberry.

“But… but my boyfriend…”

“I don’t like that boyfriend of yours,” grumbled Steve, “if he expects you to wear such tasteless dresses.”

Darcy giggled when he bent his head again, expecting another raspberry, but gasped when his lips settled on her skin, nipping lightly. “What if,” she began breathlessly, “I say that,” Steve moved up her neck, kissing her jaw, “the dress will be exceedingly,” and her cheek, “tasteful?”

He stilled and pulled back, having noticed the emphasis on the word ‘tasteful’. Darcy stared up at him innocently, tugging at his t-shirt with one hand and threading the other through his hair. Steve, for his part, had gone silent, his eyes raking over her face and settling on her lips. Darcy felt his fingers twitch on her waist and before it even happened, she knew what was coming. Steve captured her lips in a fleeting kiss and then pushed himself off her, hurrying to the bathroom without a backward glance.

Lips tingling and arms spread wide, Darcy glared up at the ceiling, her breathing uneven.

“Shit.”


	3. How to ask a friend on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An absolutely silly crack drabble that I heartily apologize for. Steve and Darcy do the craziest of things sometimes. I honestly can't handle them.
> 
> [How to ask a friend on a date Steve Rogers style](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/156766248239/how-to-ask-a-friend-on-a-date-steve-rogers)

Steve and Sam were lurking in the shadows by the science labs when Natasha walked by.

“What’s going on?” She was answered with an insistent ‘Shh!’ and Natasha pursed her lips in annoyance. “Is Steve creeping on Lewis again?”

The man in question tore his eyes from Darcy to halfheartedly defend himself. “I don’t creep on anyone.” He turned back to stare at his one true love. She was currently napping on the keyboard while Dr. Foster did all the work, frequently shooting the sleeping brunette ugly looks. Steve smiled fondly. “She looks cute when she’s sleeping.”

“Christ,” mumbled Natasha. “You talk to her every day. How hard is it to ask her one single question?”

Sam glared at her. “Will you shut up? I’m trying to boost him here.”

“Boost him for what?”

“He’s gonna ask her out when she wakes up.”

A slow, surprised smile crept up on the redhead’s face. “Really?” When Steve nodded absently, eyes still on Darcy, she asked, “What are you going to say to her?”

Knowing Steve, he had a speech planned. Knowing Lewis, she hated speeches. So Natasha had to make sure this idea wasn’t a bust. It was about time Steve got his game on. His pining for Darcy Lewis was getting on everyone’s nerves, even Tony’s and he was hard to faze when it came to romance.

“Well,” Steve said excitedly, turning to her fully for the first time. “I saw this movie a while ago. It’s a really good movie and women seem to like it a lot.”

Natasha shared a bemused glance with Sam. “Ooo-kay?”

“So, I’m gonna say to Darcy what the fella in the movie says to the dame in the ending scene. It’ll be perfect. She’s gonna melt right there. The dame in the movie did. And so did everyone who was watching.”

“What movie are we talking about here?” Natasha asked because she was suddenly having a very bad feeling about this.

Sam cut in impatiently. “Who cares about that? Just tell us what you’re gonna say to her!”

“Okay.” Steve took a breath and stood taller. He arranged his face in an expression of mushy desperation and said, “Darcy, will you marry me? Because I’d like to date you.”

Natasha slapped a hand to her forehead while Sam gaped openly at his friend. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Worried by their reactions, Steve looked from one to the other. “What? What?”

“Steve,” Natasha began as patiently as she could. “Why can’t you just ask Lewis on a date? Why do you have to propose marriage?”

Steve looked confused. “But a marriage proposal is more romantic, no? Sandra Bullock said yes even though she wasn’t dating whatsisname.”

“Ryan Reynolds,” said Sam immediately.

Natasha ignored him. “Steve, listen to me. This happens only in movies. Also, I seriously doubt you’ve seen the entire movie because it’s a whole different story there. Sandra is being deported to Canada and…”

“Good Lord,” hissed Sam. “Are we really talking about The Proposal right now? Darcy is up. Steve needs to act now!”

Steve whipped around to look back in the labs. Darcy was indeed up and about, helping Jane analyze readings from the monitor. Natasha watched with interest as Steve jumped up and down a couple of times and did a few neck rolls to loosen himself up. He was hilarious when he was around Darcy, that was for sure.

“Guys, look,” he uttered lowly. “I’m not one for fornicating before marriage. It’s a good idea to wed her so we can date freely.”

Natasha closed her eyes in exasperation. One day, she would have to clear Steve’s mind of all his bullshit notions about modern culture. But there was no time to explain to him how dating really worked. He had to ask Darcy out _now_ or he never would. She pushed Steve toward the lab door.

“All right, fine. Go ask her to marry you then. But just go!”

Sam was still shaking his head, pretty vigorously for someone who was so calm and collected most of the time. “What the hell, Romanoff? Why’d you let him do this?”

Natasha shrugged. “Poor man’s in for a bad rejection. But he needs to get this out of his system.”

“We’re such bad friends.”

Both watched from the shadows as Steve cautiously approached Darcy. The brunette looked up and greeted him with a smile. Nat and Sam couldn’t hear what they were saying but they could clearly see the couple’s faces. That was enough for now. Steve would give them the details later. They saw the supersoldier say something and noticed the expression of utter shock on Darcy’s face.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t look. Tell me what’s going on.”

Natasha had the powerful urge to look away as well but she was stronger than that. To her immense surprise, she was rewarded for her bravery in the face of rejection. She saw Darcy smile and nod.

“Sam.” The redhead poked him urgently. “Sam!”

“What’s happening?”

“I think she said yes.”

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he peered at the couple now hugging tentatively in the science lab. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Steve looked up from his embrace and gave his friends a grin and thumbs up before focusing his attention on Darcy again.

“Nope,” Natasha grinned in response to Sam’s exclamation. “I can’t believe this actually worked.”

Sam nodded in awe, still looking at Steve and his (apparently) future wife. “Maybe Darcy is a fan of The Proposal as well.”

“Maybe,” said Natasha softly.

Both Avengers stood in silence as they watched their friend talk and laugh with the lab assistant.

“So,” said Sam after a while. “Wanna be the first to tell the world about this new development?”

Natasha smirked. “Yep. The youth needs to know about this new method of asking a friend out. It has more than 0% chances of success.”

Sam laughed and hi-fived the redhead. “Hell, yeah!”


	4. Do you like me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get enough of these two idiots. [Click here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/156859386454/gif-by-h-aon-story-inspired-by-this-post-do-you) to check out manip art and gif set for this one-shot.

It was a nice dream, of fairies and woodland animals working together to rebel against the evil goblin king. It was probably influenced by all those Enid Blyton fairytales he had been reading lately. The fairies were just about to perform a magic spell that would temporarily render the king’s minions unconscious when an insistent hand on his shoulder woke him.

Steve groaned. It was still dark out and he had _really_ wanted to see the dream through. He didn’t often dream about such nice things.

“Darcy,” he mumbled groggily, squinting at her sitting beside him on the bed, looking at him with big round eyes. “Wassamatter?”

“Do you like me?”

Steve stared at her. “Darcy, I married you.”

“I know. But did you marry me as a friend or…?”

He resisted the urge to go back to sleep. This wasn’t the first time Darcy had asked him that question. Usually, it was just her trying to be funny and getting on his nerves. But he couldn’t help answering sincerely every time. The more she questioned his devotion to her, even jokingly, the more his impulse for sarcastic response to such a baseless question diminished.

Even now, he forced himself to sit up and rub the sleep out of his eyes while Darcy waited patiently, her face betraying no emotions.

Steve leaned toward her and said clearly, “I don’t _just_ like you. I married you because I _love_ you.”

Darcy nodded, scooting closer and looking innocently into his eyes. “Yeah, okay. But you want this family, right? Me and Sophie?”

Steve glared at her. “Of course!”

“You don’t think we are messing up your Captain America mojo?”

“Darcy,” Steve sighed. “The only thing you’re messing up right now is my sleep.”

He gravitated toward his pillow and pulled her down with him, burying his face in the crook of her neck and yawning loudly. She was quiet for a while. Then, as if to confirm, repeated, “But you love me.”

“We had sex five hours ago.”

“Yes, and…?”

Steve huffed out an exasperated laugh. “I love you and I’ll always love you.”

“What about Sophie?”

“Her, too.”

“Okay, good.” She wrapped both arms around him and hummed happily. He loved it when she did that. It was a different tune every time. Tonight, she was humming a broken and slightly modified tune of ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’. God, how he meant it when he said he loved her! Yes, she got on his nerves more often than not, but she was the mother of his child and he was gone on her since the day he had met her.

“I don’t understand,” he began thoughtfully, “how you ask me the same question every time with a straight face.”

She chuckled. “I don’t understand how you answer with a straight face.”

That gave him a pause. He pushed up on his elbow to study her. She held his gaze, her full lips curved into a fond smile.

“Do you really think that I would stop wanting you around one day?”

She didn’t reply immediately but when she did, her eyes shone with amusement. “You’ll never know,” she declared, surprising him. “Let me have this. Let me keep this one secret.”

It was clear what she was asking of him and his resolve to always answer her honestly strengthened. He sucked in a deep breath and nodded slowly.

“My answer will forever be the same.”

“Okay.” She sighed and tightened her arms around him when he bent to kiss her.

“You know,” he murmured between kisses. “Since we’re both awake, we should utilize this time constructively.”

Darcy giggled. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

Steve fisted a handful of her night gown and dragged it up, letting his fingers play along the length of her body. “A couple of things…”


	5. Captain Deserter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click here to see the [graphic art](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/156940955894/when-natasha-romanoff-introduced-darcy-lewis-to) for this one-shot. I'm actually quite proud of it. :)

When Natasha Romanoff introduced Darcy Lewis to Steve Rogers for the first time, she hadn’t expected them to know each other already and she definitely hadn’t expected Darcy to flip the hell out when she laid eyes on Steve.

“You,” the normally chirpy brunette hissed, pointing an accusing finger at a wide-eyed Steve. “What is _he_ doing here?”

Natasha looked from one to the other, suddenly very interested. “This is Steve Rogers, Darcy. Captain America.”

Darcy looked stunned. She snapped her gaze to him and said incredulously, “You’re the Captain? No! You can’t be.”

Steve looked guilty. “I can explain.”

“Explain? How the hell can someone explain the shit that you—”

They were attracting attention. Natasha could see Clint and Sam making their way over. She cut Darcy off mid-tirade and asked curiously, “How do you two know each other?”

“I dated him a year ago,” snapped Darcy.

Steve flinched and that’s all Natasha needed to know that Darcy was telling the truth.

“We went out on _one_ date,” he corrected in a small voice.

Darcy scoffed. “As if there would ever be more with the shit you pulled on me that day!”

Clint and Sam came over to flank Natasha. “What’s going on?”

“Shh. Steve and Darcy are having an altercation.”

“We’re not having an…” Steve began before giving up and shooting Darcy an apologetic look. “There’s a perfectly good and valid explanation for what I did.”

“You _left_ when I went to the bathroom!”

“Noooo!” chorused Natasha, Clint and Sam, their eyes wide and expressions conveying utmost delight.

“Who does that?!”

“Yeah, Steve, who does that?” mocked Sam.

“There was a call to assemble,” Steve explained steadily. “I had no choice. I couldn’t wait for you to come out.”

“You could have left me a note,” argued Darcy heatedly.

“Yeah, Steve, you could have left her a note,” scolded Clint.

Steve gritted his teeth and ignored him, keeping his eyes firmly on Darcy. “I couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse and I couldn’t exactly tell you I’m not _Just Steve_ but Steve Rogers, the Avenger. You were a stranger I met on the internet.”

Darcy blinked and there was a pause where Natasha assumed that maybe she realized Steve had a point. But the feisty brunette was not one to back down so easily. She had one more point left to make and it wasn’t good.

“You were a stranger to me, too. So, imagine my surprise when I walked out of the loo to see an empty table laden with a shitload of food that _you_ ordered before conveniently ditching me at the restaurant. Guess who had to pay for everything?”

“Nooooo!” Their three spectators chorused in disbelief.

“Well,” Steve fumbled, feeling incredibly ashamed. He had no explanation for _that_ except that, in his haste, he had forgotten to leave some notes behind. Lord, he was a douche for subjecting a lady to such humiliation. “I’m sorry,” he finally mumbled. “I can pay you back. How much do I owe you?”

Instead of thanking him, Darcy looked like he had decked her grandmother. “Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed, turning to Natasha. “He wants to pay me back. _He wants to pay me back!_ Brilliant, just—you know what? Keep your frikking money, Captain Deserter!”

“Yeah, you keep your money, Steve!” repeated Sam instantly.

“I don’t need your charity!”

“She doesn’t need your charity,” echoed Clint reproachfully.

“Will you two shut up?” Steve exploded, glaring furiously at his friends who, if possible, looked more entertained by Steve’s anger.

He took a deep, calming breath and faced Darcy again. “You won’t take the money. You won’t accept my apology. What do you want me to do?”

Darcy shook her head in disgust. “Go learn some manners, jackass!” She turned and walked away.

Steve stared after her in astonishment before an ugly scowl made its way onto his face. “Oh, yeah? Well, _you_ should learn not to judge people by their first dates,” he called petulantly after her. “I’m glad I was saved from getting to know you by the assemble order. I would have been terribly bored!”

“She’s gone, Steve,” stated Natasha, her tone laced with amusement.

Steve cursed under his breath, fixed a legitimate glare on his three friends, before turning around and stomping away just like Darcy had done.

“Ten bucks says they get together by the end of this month,” said Sam, watching Steve slam the door behind him.

“Twenty says by the end of this week,” pitched in Clint.

Natasha smirked. “Thirty says Darcy proposes a second date after Steve has realized what an ass he’s been and apologizes again.”

“Forty says Steve makes the first move.”

Natasha beamed and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Looks like we’ve a deal, boys.”


	6. The Betting Pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for a follow up. Here you go. Some more of Captain Deserter for everyone. :) [Click here to see the manip/graphic for this story.](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/157536270394/follow-up-to-captain-deserter-steve-stepped-into)
> 
> I don't know how to text speak, so please bear with my attempt in the following story.

Steve stepped into the seemingly empty kitchen and peered around in the darkness. In the faint moonlight filtering in through the tinted window, he could see the outline of a hunched figure sitting at the center table. The figure looked up in annoyance when he flicked on the lights.

“Look who it is,” Darcy Lewis drawled, blinking at him in the sudden bright light.

Steve scowled. “You again.”

“Yes, me again. Now run away like you did last time.”

Steve rolled his eyes and walked over to the fridge, rummaging inside for his leftover sandwich from last night. He could feel Darcy’s gaze on him but refused to be affected by it. With his snack in hand, he made his way to the seat opposite her and settled down, eyeing her in challenge.

“Still here?” she mocked, sounding bored. Her fingers played with the spoon in her hand before she scooped a large chunk of ice cream from her bowl and shoved it artlessly into her mouth.

“Will you let that go already?” Steve asked, exasperated. “I apologized, didn’t I?”

“Sure ya did,” she said, with a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice. Steve gritted his teeth and concentrated on demolishing his sandwich. Apparently, peace was something he would never have again, not even when he woke up in the middle of the night for a snack.

To his surprise, Darcy stood up and stuck the half eaten ice cream bowl back into the freezer. “Seeya around, Captain Deserter. Or well, _not_.”

He should have kept his mouth shut but he couldn’t help calling out to her retreating form. “Who’s deserting who now?”

What was he so bitter about anyway? He didn’t like her company. He was happy to see her leave him alone.

Darcy stopped in her tracks and turned around to shoot him an ugly look. “One, this isn’t a date. I wouldn’t agree to date you at gun point.” Steve glared at her. That was a little extreme. “Two, even though I didn’t want to, I had the decency to say goodbye. Try it sometime. It’s not that hard.”

Before he could open his mouth to retaliate, she was gone. Darn his luck! He had agreed to go on one date— _one_ date—and he was still enduring punishment for his decision. He pulled out his phone and sent an angry message to Natasha.

Steve:  
_Remind me never to date anyone I meet on the internet._

His phone beeped with a reply not a second later. It was well past 2 am. What was the assassin doing awake at this hour? Steve decided he didn’t even want to know.

Natasha:  
_r u sleep txting me again?_

Steve:  
_That was once, Natasha. I sleep texted you just once and that too because I was feeling delirious after a mission._

Natasha:  
_u feel delirious often? bcoz u sleep txt me every other nyt_

Steve banged his head on the table. What was his life?

Natasha:  
_r u secretly in love with me? bcoz dat’s not goin to work_

Steve:  
_Jesus, Nat._

 

New text message from Group: Steve Rogers Eternal Betting Pool

Natasha:  
_steve just texted me_

Sam:  
_sleep txting?_

Natasha:  
_no_

Sam:  
_shit! I owe clint five dollars!_

Clint:  
_u still owe me ten frm the last bet_

Sam:  
_i’m down to my last dollar, cupid_

Clint:  
_not my fault u lose every tym_

Natasha:  
_quit bickering. i thnk he had another encounter with Darcy_

Sam:  
_OMG twice in 3 days!_

Clint:  
_they make out?_

Natasha:  
_not yet…_

Sam:  
_keep us posted_

Natasha:  
_as is my moral duty_

 

It was a boring party hosted by the head of the Scientific Research Division in honor of a scientific breakthrough that Steve knew nothing about. Since none of the other Avengers wanted to attend, Steve had no choice but to be the good guy again. The only people he knew at the party were Dr. Foster and Dr. Selvig. _And Darcy_ , his mind supplied unhelpfully. He had been ignoring her steadfastly for the past half an hour. She moved around the room, talking to people and looking after Foster and Selvig with a constant smile on her face. It was clearly fake and Steve wondered how he could even tell her fake smile from her real smile. Both looked pretty much the same, didn’t they?

They didn’t and Steve hated being able to tell the difference.

Darcy caught sight of him staring in her direction from across the room and rolled her eyes. Steve quickly averted his gaze, berating himself for catching her attention. He needed to be as inconspicuous as possible so nobody would accost him with questions he didn’t have the answers to. He was only there to congratulate and smile on behalf of Tony and the Avengers, but mostly Tony because he was the one who funded everything, even the research division.

Deciding the scientists wouldn’t begrudge him if he left a little early, Steve was about to give up and leave when Darcy stepped in his path, a glass of martini in her hand and dark hair spilling from the not-so-perfect coif atop her head.

“You can leave, you know,” she told him frankly. “You don’t have to stand here like a wallflower, looking as if you’d prefer to be anywhere else in the world right now.”

That was a spot-on assessment of his current feelings. But Steve would be damned if he let her have the last word this time. He was tired of being targeted by her for no reason.

“For your information,” he began coolly, “I happen to be enjoying myself.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked knowingly. “Then, you _weren’t_ staring soullessly into the horizon a minute ago?”

“I was thinking about science,” Steve lied, faltering only once. “It’s important.”

“Of course it is.” There she was, being sarcastic again. “And what were you thinking about exactly?”

“That’s none of your business,” Steve snapped. What was he doing? He shouldn’t have lied in the first place. Darcy somehow brought out the worst in him. He had to stay away from her.

Her expression hardened and she glared at him without reserve. “Must you be such an ass all the time?”

“Must you be so rude to me all the time?” retorted Steve.

She threw up her hands, looking affronted. “Well, excuse me for trying to be nice to you for once.”

Steve scoffed, but kept his snark in check. He had better things to do than stand there being mocked by someone who didn’t even know him. “You know what, you’re right. I can leave if I want to.”

He placed his empty alcohol glass on the ledge of the nearby window and gave Darcy a fake smile, which she did not return, instead calling after him as he determinedly walked away from her.

“That’s not leaving. You’re running away. Again.”

Steve didn’t stop, nor did he turn. “Goodbye,” he said, raising his hand in a half-hearted wave. “There. That makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he heard her mumble softly but he was already out of the room and the softness in her voice just made him angrier.

 

New text message from Group: Steve Rogers Eternal Betting Pool

Clint:  
_any1 knw Y our dear captain is silently fuming in the elevator?_

Sam:  
_ohno! is he heading to my place? tell him it wasn’t me. i dint put dat frog in his underwear drawer._

Clint:  
_i dont thnk its abt a frog (i did it btw… i’m the frog planter)_

Sam:  
_dammit clint!_

Natasha:  
_i thnk i know wats goin on_

Clint:  
_and how wud u knw?_

Sam:  
_dont waste tym asking stupid ques. she’s the black widow she knows everythin!_

Natasha:  
_thnku sam. steve was supposed to b at the science party. if he left, dat cud only mean 1 thing_

Sam:  
_another altercation with my fav lab rat darcyyyyyy_

Natasha:  
_looks like it_

Clint:  
_they make out?_

Sam:  
_jesus clint_

Natasha:  
_u tell me. u r the one who’s standing next to him_

Clint:  
_nah. he’d b happeh if they had made out. he dont look happeh._

Sam:  
_one more day to go den u lose clint mwahahaha_

Natasha:  
_and if steve doesnt make the first move u lose sam_

Sam:  
_wateva_

Clint:  
_he just went to his room and slammed the door shut_

Natasha:  
_i’m gonna poke around for details. cya_

 

Steve dragged his feet across the lobby, his posture slouched and a permanent scowl marring his features. It was a bad couple of days for him, starting with that stupid argument with Darcy at the party, followed by Natasha badgering him for details about it, finding a frog in his underwear drawer (he was going to kill Sam for pulling the same idiotic prank again), being asked out by three different women on a single coffee run that he now regretted and, finally, being chased by tabloid photographers stationed intermittently in a three block radius around the building. To top it all off, he was pretty sure he had sleep texted Natasha again last night and was afraid to check his sent box for confirmation.

Yet again, he wondered when his life had become such a shit show…

He heard someone yell “Hold the elevator” and immediately stuck his hand between the closing doors. To his dismay, Darcy stumbled in, breathing hard. “Thank…” Her gratitude vanished the moment she laid eyes on him. “Oh, no,” she moaned, trying to make a hasty retreat and colliding with the closed elevator doors instead. “Shit.”

Unaware of the tension it was carrying, the elevator happily made its way up the building.

Steve had already resigned himself to the current situation but feeling Darcy’s glare on him as if this was all his fault was getting on his nerves.

“Can you stop looking at me like I planned this?” he demanded, finally meeting her gaze.

“No.”

“If it’s any consolation, I wouldn’t have held the elevator if I knew it was you.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “How gentlemanly of you.”

“Well, _you_ don’t prefer gentlemen,” Steve pointed out. “You don’t accept their apologies, you taunt them, you’re rude to them…”

“I don’t taunt you!” interjected Darcy heatedly. “And you were rude to me first!”

“I already said I’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant.”

“Not just that,” huffed Darcy. “You tried to offer me money!”

Steve gave her an incredulous look. “ _You_ were the one who brought it up. You said I ordered a shitload and left you to pay for everything.”

“That’s because you refused to accept that you were an ass to me a year ago.”

Steve opened his mouth to retort, closed it, then took a deep breath and spoke very, very slowly, “Fine. I was an ass. I admit it. Can we move past this now?”

Instead of soothing her and causing her to back away from his case, his words only made her angrier. But just like he had done, she took a breath and reined in her temper. “You still don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” demanded Steve, unconsciously invading her personal space in the heat of the moment, not that Darcy noticed. She glared right back at him, her gaze defiant. Steve continued, “I emailed you… after I came back from the mission. Do you even remember?”

“Of course, I rem—”

“And you didn’t care to respond,” he interrupted sharply. “So, don’t you tell me that I don’t get it, that I ran away. You were the one who ran away from a second chance.”

Darcy stared at him in disbelief. “Steve, you sent me a one-liner that started with ‘hey’ and ended with a lame ass apology.”

“So?”

“So, excuse me for not trusting you with my time again. I didn’t _know_ you.”

“Yes, you didn’t. So, you shouldn’t have judged me.”

“I wouldn’t have if you had had the decency to pen down that same one-liner at the restaurant rather than disappearing completely and emailing me three weeks later.”

“I _told_ you I was in a hurry!”

“I have to go,” intoned Darcy, speaking over him. “Work emergency. Will make it up to you later. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Or any combination of those words,” she continued. “It would have taken you all of five seconds to write that down or convey your message to the waitress.”

“But I…” he trailed away, for once, stunned speechless.

“Steve,” Darcy said quietly. “We both know that if you really wanted, you could have gotten through to me before you left.” She looked away when there was a ding and the doors opened. “This is me.”

He acted on impulse, darting around her and blocking her path. “Wait.”

The elevator doors bumped against his shoulders and Darcy chuckled humorlessly. “Let me pass.”

Steve held the doors apart with his hands and stared at her in frustration, his thoughts running amok, stealing his usual eloquence from him. He needed time to take everything in but he didn’t want her to leave either.

“Come on, man,” sighed Darcy, trying to duck out from under his arm but Steve, acting on instincts again, twisted around and caught her. She gasped in surprise, unable to maintain her footing, and crashed face first into Steve, reflexively flinging her arms around his neck to keep herself from sliding down his body.

They stood there awkwardly for a while, Darcy arched impossibly against him, upright only because of his arm around her waist, and Steve bent unattractively at the shoulders as he held onto Darcy with one hand and used the other to hold back the elevator door that was repeatedly trying to close on them. He looked down at the wide-eyed woman smushed against his front and gulped.

“Sorry. I hadn’t thought this through.”

“No shit,” she mumbled, using her grip around him to straighten up but the elevator door jolted, making her slip again. Panicking slightly, she tightened her hold on him in a death grip and, a moment later, was back to shimmying up his body in order to get an even footing.

Steve made no move to help her. “Stop squirming. It’s distracting.”

“I hate you,” she said without heat. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

“I want to talk.”

Darcy stared at him in disbelief. “Right now? Can’t it wait until _after_ we’ve managed to get out of this stupid pose from Dancing with the Stars?”

“No.”

They held a brief staring contest which Darcy eventually lost when she sighed in resignation. “Fine. Talk.”

Steve bit his lip. “Give me a moment.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“All right, all right.” He adjusted his grip on her waist and spoke quietly, “I was afraid.” Darcy’s jaw dropped. “I liked you a lot and I didn’t know how you’d take to finding out that I’m Captain America. Believe it or not, it’s really hard to have a normal relationship when you’re dating an Avenger.”

“Who told you that?” Darcy said immediately, once again trying to heave herself up into a comfortable standing possible. For a second, her face hovered terrifyingly close to his before she gave up trying and told him matter-of-factly, “You must be dating all the wrong girls then.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Maybe.”

Taking pity on her, he removed his hand from the very persistent elevator door behind Darcy and wrapped it around her thighs, quickly pulling her forward until she landed on her feet and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for freeing me from that utterly uncomfortable ballet pose,” she said, arms still slung around him and a hint of smile on her face. She jumped when the elevator door thumped against her back. “Maybe we should step out. We’ve been holding this thing for too long. People in waiting must be getting frustrated.”

Steve extended his arm and slapped it against the panel, holding the door in place. “Not until you forgive me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You just admitted that you ran without saying anything because you were afraid I wouldn’t be able to take the truth about you.”

“Um… yeah.”

“That implies that you judged me without giving me a chance to prove myself.”

Steve felt his stomach sink. She was right. He had been an ass.

 

New text message from Group: Steve Rogers Eternal Betting Pool

Natasha:  
_far side elevator is stuck on the 49th floor. clint?_

Clint:  
_Y do u always blame me for everything? use the main one_

Natasha:  
_i prefer baby elevators coz they r cleaner and less claustrophobic_

Sam:  
_Ur logic stinks. i’ll go check… bt only coz i’ve nothin better to do_

 

“Fine, I’ll forgive you.” Before Steve could even process her words, Darcy continued determinedly, “ _If_ you take me out again and spend the entire date without being afraid or running away.”

Steve blinked in surprise, nodding slowly.

“And if there’s a call to assemble, you _tell_ me that you’ve to go break some legs before you take off like a man on fire. Deal?”

Forgiveness in return for a date. It was a good approach, not to mention remarkably motivating. A slow grin spread across Steve’s face as he considered her words. He supposed he could definitely go along with it. Bickering with Darcy was one thing but talking and laughing with her would be so much better.

“Deal,” he repeated, nodding decisively. “You wanna shake on it?”

Darcy gave him a skeptical look. “Where I come from, we have a different way of sealing deals.”

“And what’s that?” asked Steve although he _did_ have a vague idea what she was hinting at.

Darcy smiled impishly and a shiver ran down his spine. “Let me show you.”

 

Sam stepped into the hallway, slowly and lazily making his way from the main elevator to the one on the far side. Elevator malfunction was a rare thing in the building. Stark’s AI kept everything up to date. He wondered what could have gone wrong and why he had even agreed to do this menial job in lieu of lounging naked in his room, when he glimpsed the most bizarre thing ever: a couple engaged in an intimate embrace on the threshold of the far side elevator.

“Eww.” Sam made a face. So that’s what was holding up the elevator.

He marched over to knock some sense into them, only to gasp and stumble when the couple’s faces came into view.

_Steve and Darcy._

His revulsion at having to witness something like that faded in a heartbeat and Sam stared in open-mouthed delight as his closest friend finally got the girl. He hoped Darcy had at least slapped him before letting him eat her face. He wondered if he should break them up. He was happy for them, yeah, but it wasn’t exactly a romantic sight. Both of them were engaged in a weird sort of a dance, alternating between holding each other and holding the elevator doors open.

Natasha:  
_sam where r u? wat the hell is goin on?_

Sam:  
_OMG it’s steve and darcy!!!_

Natasha:  
_wat?!_

Clint:  
_waaaaaaaaat?_

Clint:  
_they make out?_

Sam:  
_yaaaaas_

Clint:  
_exactly a week! just lyk i predicted! ur money’s mine, wilson :D_

Natasha:  
_i wanna see this i’m taking the main elevator_

Sam paled. Shit, Clint had won again! No, but wait, there was one more thing.

“Hey,” he yelled, making the couple before him jump. Two red faces turned in his direction. “Who made the first move?”

They stared at him like he was crazy, coming up there to ask them stupid questions when they clearly had more important things to do. But only Sam knew the importance of that question. “WHO KISSED WHO?” he shouted excitedly.

Natasha:  
_this is taking 4ever. who da hell made the first move?_

Clint:  
_bet it was darcy… dat girl takes wat she wants_

“I kissed him,” said Darcy finally, one arm hooked around Steve’s neck and the other planted firmly on the elevator panel. Steve was pretty much in the same position.

“NO!” Sam cried in dismay. He had lost to Hawkass. _Again!_

“Now go away,” said Steve. “We’re sealing a deal.”

“Steve,” Sam said bitterly, stomping his foot on the ground like a petulant child. “You’re a disgrace to men everywhere!”

Steve didn’t even deign him with a look and quickly went back to kissing Darcy like they hadn’t been interrupted at all. Sam looked at the messages pouring into the betting pool group. Nat was stuck waiting while people kept getting on and off on almost every floor and Clint was dying to know more details.

 _This is convenient_ , Sam thought. _I’m the only witness to this important event that will probably go down in history as the worst place to kiss Steve Rogers ever._

He would be damned if he didn’t use that to his advantage.

Sam:  
_clint u r not gonna lyk dis_

Clint:  
…

Sam:  
_steve made the first move!!! ur money’s miiiiine sucka!_

Natasha:  
_hellyeah!_

Clint:  
_shiiiiiiiiiit_

Sam:  
_i’m headed ur way. keep the check ready_

Clint:  
_i’m moving to budapest. gudbye my friends_

Sam smiled widely and put his phone away, utterly unashamed at what he had done. Steve cheated at chess all the time. So, this was nothing. In fact, it could even be deemed a good deed considering how happy he felt and how delighted Natasha was and how invested Steve and Darcy were. Clint was the only one upset about it and, frankly, Sam could live with that. In fact, he would have it no other way.

“Nat’s on her way. You might want to take this party inside,” he cheerfully informed the kissing couple before spinning on his heel and sauntering away, whistling lowly.


	7. How to troll your friends effectively

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For PyraSanada** , who wanted a continuation of [How to ask a friend on a date](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9564260/chapters/21646802). It's not a sequel, rather her interpretation of what really happened in that story. It's short but, sadly, this is the best I could do. *sad puppy eyes*

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve watched Sam and Natasha walk away, high-fiving each other like excited teenagers. He nodded meaningfully at a waiting Darcy, who immediately gave in to her mirth, clutching his shoulder with one hand and wrapping the other around her stomach as she laughed openly.

“I’ve never had such a hard time holding it in,” she wheezed, wiping happy tears from her eyes. “You’re a natural, Steve.”

Steve grinned, remembering his USO days. “I’ve had experience.”

Darcy snickered. “Can’t believe Sam and Nat bought it though.”

“Neither can I,” admitted Steve, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. “So, are we really moving in together?”

“Depends,” chirped Darcy, running her fingers up his chest and under his collar in a deliberate attempt to turn him on.

“On what?” croaked Steve, eyes briefly flicking down as her deft fingers popped a button open.

“Will there be any more fake marriage proposals in the future?”

Steve gulped and shook his head. “Only a real one. Someday…” he said before adding impishly, “ _If_ you agree to help me troll Sam and Nat on a regular basis.”

“Captain.” Darcy smirked, popping another button. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“What are you two conspiring about?” Jane called from the other side of the lab.

“Good news, Janie,” Darcy hollered as Steve grabbed her wandering hand and pulled her out of the lab, his eyes dark and hooded. “Steve and I are getting married.”

“WHAT?”


	8. Singing Valentine

On the morning of February the 14th, Steve Rogers is woken up by loud, insistent knocks on his door. He’s up and out of bed in a flash, thinking it’s an urgent call to assemble.

It isn’t.

Standing outside his door, looking comically sleep-rumpled and covered in red bows and silver glitter, are Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. They’re glaring at him like it’s his fault they are in this mess. Steve stares at them in disbelief.

“What in the hell…?”

“We’re here to deliver a telegram from your beloved,” grouses Bucky, half-heartedly sprinkling a handful of glitter on Steve.

Still a bit confused by their appearance, Steve blinks the glitter from his eyelashes and holds out his hand for the supposed telegram. But Sam shakes his head and speaks in the voice of a man who has resigned himself to the situation. “It’s a singing telegram.”

“Um…” Steve isn’t really sure what that means. Are they there to give him a new playlist or is it something fancy and vintage, like a vinyl? Darcy knows what Steve likes. She calls him a purist. So maybe it _is_ a vinyl record. He looks expectantly at Bucky and Sam, both of whom seem content to stand there silently, looking anywhere but at each other. Just as he’s about to call them off on their unnecessary stalling and tell them to hand him his telegram and bugger off, Sam starts singing.

Steve snorts. “All right, man. I get it. You’re funny.”

But then, Bucky joins in, occasionally providing beats to aid in Sam’s rendition of ‘A Pocketful of Sunshine’. At first, Steve is horrified and embarrassed, and he glances around to see if anyone is watching. But the sight is too funny to be embarrassed about and, soon, he finds himself in peels of silent laughter while his two friends serenade him. Darcy has done some crazy shit in her life, but this takes the cake. Steve has to hand it to her. Getting Bucky and Sam to wear bows and be his singing Valentine must not have been an easy feat. They are terrible singers and that makes everything all the more hilarious.

They glare at him throughout the song and once they’re done, Steve wipes happy tears from his face and says, “Really well sung, guys. Brought tears to my eyes. So beautiful.”

Sam rolls his eyes and Bucky scoffs. “Get scraped, punk!”

“That the best you can do?”

Bucky opens his mouth to retaliate but Sam interrupts before a verbal argument breaks out between the two friends. “Darcy expects you showered and ready at her apartment in an hour. Capice? Great. We’re done here.” He tugs at a grumpy Bucky’s arm and both turn to leave.

Steve hears one of them mutter to the other, “If Stark sees this footage, we’re never living it down, you know that, right?”

Unable to resist himself, he calls out to them. “What did my girl do to make you agree to this?”

He isn’t really expecting a reply but gets one in the form of a crude gesture from his best friend. Steve barks out a laugh and closes the door with a smile on his face. Not a bad way to start the day, eh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna see what Sam and Bucky look like, [click here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/158069704554/this-is-just-a-small-part-of-a-story-written-for). But, you know, imagine silver glitter and more bows.


	9. An Unusual Meet Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt given by PieAnnamay07: _Darcy and Steve get trapped together somewhere._
> 
> [Link on tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/159020556514/shieldshock-prompt-darcy-and-steve-get-trapped)

It was an unusual situation of epic proportions.

There were aliens, yes. There was a Hulk, yes. There was fighting and screaming, yes. And yet Darcy had no idea how she had ended up trapped beneath a building with Captain America of all people. One minute, she had been panic-running to the exit, herding others before her like the saint she secretly was, and the very next minute something (or rather, someone) had burst through the glass window and a bomb had exploded. Now buried beneath all the rubble with an unconscious superhero sprawled on top of her, it was hard to decide whether he had jumped in to save the civilians or whether someone had pushed him through the window and then tried to bomb them all.

It was just her luck that she was right in his trajectory and that he had basically stopped her from getting crushed by wrapping his body around her and taking the brunt of all the falling debris. She was grateful to him but her head hurt and she was pretty sure she had sprained her ankle due to the fall, so excuse her for being a little scared and uncomfortable.

“Hey, wake up,” she wheezed, poking the prone body on top of her. Both his arms were caging her head and his masked face was buried in her hair, breathing steadily against her neck. “Dude, come on. You’re really heavy.”

When he still didn’t move, Darcy panicked. She didn’t want to be trapped in there forever. There was a battle going on outside. No one would know she and the Captain were buried underneath a building and no one would be looking for them because everyone was busy getting to safety while the Avengers took on the bad guys. It could take _hours_ for anyone to find them.

“Help,” she called, trying to peer through the floating dust. “Somebody! Come on, please let someone hear me. HELP!”

There was a low grunt and the Captain squirmed over her. His face pressed briefly into her neck before he regained full consciousness and pushed himself up on his elbows with a pained groan. “What…?”

“Thank God,” Darcy sighed in relief, watching him blink in disorientation for a few seconds before his blue gaze fixed on her. “Are you hurt? I was scared you wouldn’t wake up at all and I would die being suffocated by Captain America!”

“I…” He tried to move, to heave himself off of her body but there was a sizeable chunk of the ceiling wedged a few inches above his back, kept in place by several beams and more rubble. Even with his super strength, he couldn’t get the ceiling to move. Impatient and frustrated, he slumped back into Darcy, who squeaked loudly.

“Sorry,” he said, looking contrite. Balancing himself on his elbows again, he tore the cowl from his face and gave her a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

Instead of answering, Darcy stared at him in open-mouthed awe. Sure, she had always known what Captain America looked like. Tall, blond, broad shouldered, those were the details they had all gleaned from the comics while growing up. But seeing him up front, it was a different thing entirely. He didn’t look _anything_ like his counterpart in the comics! He was handsome, yes, but he had an incredibly kind face. And at that moment, he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

It was thrilling, confusing and misleading all at once.

“Y-yes,” she finally stammered. “I think I sprained my ankle but I don’t… feel any parts of me bleeding.”

“Good,” the Captain said, sounding genuinely relieved. “My back hurts but that’s to be expected.”

“There’s blood on your forehead,” she couldn’t help pointing out.

He looked around them, squinting through the semi-darkness and floating dust just like she had done moments earlier. “Anybody there?” he bellowed. “Hello!”

Darcy winced. “I don’t think there’s anyone around, Captain. And if they are, they can’t hear us.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“My name is Steve.”

“Uh,” mumbled Darcy, surprised that he wanted her to call him by his first name. “Okay. I’m Darcy. Darcy Lewis.”

“Unusual name,” he muttered distractedly. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push up again, putting all his effort into lifting the wreckage pressing down on them but he was sorely unsuccessful and looked very disappointed about it. Remembering something, he put a finger in his ear and spoke clearly, “Tony, can you hear me? Natasha?”

He stayed still for a minute, listening intently to nothing but silence, then pulled out his comm. and tossed it aside angrily. “I’m afraid we’re stuck down here until someone comes to rescue us.”

Darcy nodded, fighting the sinking feeling in her stomach at his words. She had already figured it out but hearing Captain America say it made it seem so final. If he, a superhero, couldn’t do anything about their situation, then there was no point having hope. They had no choice but to wait out the battle happening on the streets above. They also had no choice but to awkwardly converse with each other being that he was right there laid out on top of her, his face inches from hers, and it would be weird as shit if they stayed silent and just stared at one another. Because, yeah, there was nothing else to stare at except the destruction around them and it wasn’t that interesting. It was kinda depressing, actually.

“Can’t say I haven’t imagined running into Captain America and ending up being best friends with him,” Darcy said, trying to make light of their situation. “I just didn’t think a building would cave in on us in the middle of our meet cute.”

Her words coaxed a short laugh out of him. “Trust me, this isn’t how I imagined my first free Saturday in forever to pan out. I was more inclined toward a quiet evening in my apartment with some pizza and maybe a Liam Neeson movie.”

“I get it,” said Darcy with a grin. “It’s because you both have a particular set of skills, right? Skills you’ve acquired over a very long career.”

“That’s right. Liam and I… we’re kindred spirits.”

Darcy snorted. She hadn’t known Captain America was such a ball of sass and dry humor. Between occasionally trying and failing to push the wreckage off of them and calling out vainly for help, he kept Darcy distracted with his quips. The pain in her head was a dull ache now and she couldn’t even feel her hurt ankle anymore. She was too busy paying attention to him to feel any pain.

He was _entrancing_. Even with a bloodied forehead, sweaty hair and injured back, he could find it in himself to answer her questions and to joke around whenever he felt like she was going into panic mode.

“What if no one comes for us?” she asked him after what felt like hours of them being trapped in those ruins.

His response was prompt. “Then I guess you’ll have the privilege to die a heroic death with Captain America.”

Her chest felt heavy and her throat clogged but she managed a giggle. “What’s so heroic about being trapped in here with no one to witness our heroism?”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm. You have a point there.”

Pushing down her fear, Darcy said, “Maybe if you had a knife, you could kill me first and then kill yourself and then people would think we were tragic lovers. Very Romeo and Juliet-y.”

“Yes.” He was silent for a long time as he studied her, his blue eyes sweeping over her face as if he was seeing her for the first time. Darcy looked away uncomfortably, thinking she had made a mistake in saying that. Perhaps it too bold? Too inappropriate? She couldn’t guess what was wrong until he spoke and cleared her doubts completely.

“We don’t have to kill each other to be considered lovers.” He dipped his head a little and Darcy literally stopped breathing. “I could kiss you and people would easily assume we are.”

“Yeah.” She gulped. “Yeah, that’s one way to… to…”

She tried to figure out if he was messing with her in yet another attempt to distract her or if he was being serious. It couldn’t be the latter, could it? He was Captain America. She was just Darcy. Did superheroes fall for faceless civilians? Could one even consider this banter as ‘falling for her’? Maybe he was trying to divert his mind as well. He was human after all.

“Okay, yeah,” she finally said, nodding jerkily. “I like your idea.”

If anything, she would come out of this with a kiss to remember. Maybe no one would believe her but she would always know she made out with America’s favorite son.

He was definitely surprised by her willingness to go along with his plan. It occurred to her again that maybe he _had_ been messing with her but then he leaned down until his nose was touching hers and Darcy realized that she didn’t care as long as he kept looking at her like that.

“You sure?” he murmured, lightly brushing his lips over hers.

Darcy sucked in a shaky breath and raised a dirt stained hand to wrap around his nape. “I don’t mind being considered Captain America’s lover,” she whispered impishly. “You should worry about your own reputation.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Never have, never will.”

Steve kissed like he spoke, gentle and lively. His lips mapped her entire face before he went anywhere near her mouth. It would have been incredibly sexy if he didn’t punctuate his ministrations with tiny raspberry kisses that had Darcy laughing in no time.

She was no stranger to kissing unknown people but there was no awkwardness with Steve, no fear of judging one another, no concerns about their respective make-out skills or nervousness of what would happen after. Judging by the amount of fun they were having, it almost felt like she had known him forever. She had never thought she could develop such instant chemistry with any man, let alone Captain Steve Rogers.

“Quit playing around,” she ordered, laughing out loud when he blew another raspberry on her cheek.

If she concentrated enough, she could believe they were out in the open, perhaps hidden behind a bush in her favorite garden in Philly, stealing a few moments for themselves before Darcy had to go to work. She felt happy and relaxed, and the fear that had been clawing at her insides since the explosion had all but vanished.

Suddenly, Steve pulled away from her and she opened her eyes to find him looking up intently. Trying to get her breathing under control, she asked, “What is it?”

“People,” he replied shortly.

Darcy tried to listen closely. She could hear them too. Muffled voices. Getting closer and closer.

“HELP!” She screamed while Steve yelled, “Down here!”

The voices increased in volume and Darcy could hear thuds above them, a sound she associated with people moving aside the wreckage to get to them. She beamed at Steve. “Guess we’re not dying after all.”

“Guess we have a chance at a thankfully non-tragic love story.”

Darcy laughed and pulled him down, catching his lips with hers. He came willingly, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss while the people above them worked tirelessly to get them both out.

“Spend tomorrow with me,” Steve murmured against her lips. “I’ll take care of you.”

So, maybe it _was_ an unusual situation of epic proportions but it was definitely not unwelcome. She had walked out with a date, hadn’t she?


	10. A Not So Unusual First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [McGregorsWench](http://mcgregorswench.tumblr.com/post/159147382415/shieldshock-prompt-darcy-and-steve-get-trapped), who asked for a follow-up to [An Unusual Meet Cute](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9564260/chapters/23211372).
> 
> I wrote it while I was half asleep, so if it's completely terrible, pretend to like it anyway. :P

Steve lived in a cozy little building in Brooklyn, set in a narrow side street that the cab wouldn’t venture in. Darcy spared a thought for her injured foot before opening the cab door and stepping out. Steve had offered to pick her up from her place but, like the stubborn damsel that she was, she had told him she could manage on her own. Now, as she stood there on the threshold of the cobblestoned street that looked longer to her than it really was, a small thread of regret settled in her stomach for refusing his offer.

To her delight, she had only taken a few painful steps forward when Steve jogged into view, sporting dark jeans, flannel shirt and a smile that lit up his face.

“Hi,” he said, reaching her and practically sweeping her off her feet in a giant hug.

Darcy squealed and clung to him. “How did you know I was here?”

“I’ve been loitering near the window for the past half an hour, waiting for you.” He set her down and gave her a serious once over. “How are you?”

“Peachy. How’s your back?”

“Good. No hidden injuries from yesterday?” he pressed. At Darcy’s cheerful “nope”, he narrowed his eyes playfully. “Truth?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

He mock glared at her. “Didn’t we talk enough about dying yesterday for you to bring it up again?”

“My bad.” Darcy giggled and clutched his arm. “Now take me inside. Or I’ll _die_ in this heat.”

He snorted and helped her down the street. She wouldn’t let him pick her up, which he was very much inclined to do, but Darcy wasn’t a complete invalid. She could walk with some support. Plus, they were already attracting so much attention that she didn’t want to give Steve’s neighbors anything more to gossip about. In a bizarre twist, almost everywhere she looked, people were smiling at them.

“Ignore my friends,” Steve told her when he saw her eyeing everyone around them with discomfort. “They have never seen me bring a woman home before. They’re just curious.”

They seemed more delighted than curious but Steve’s words had successfully diverted Darcy’s attention from starry-eyed neighbors to the highly inconceivable fact that she was the first female to be invited into his home. To be honest, it didn’t make sense. Steve was wonderful, so wonderful that she was having a hard time thinking of him as a normal human. He was still Captain America to her and she could imagine women swooning over him wherever he went. There was no way he hadn’t been tempted to bring home a few. That was just… that was just _not_ possible!

She was pulled out of her thoughts with a comical shriek when Steve, having had enough of her snail-paced hobbling, abruptly bent and slid his arms around her back, picking her up swiftly and proceeding to speed up the stairs of his building. She opened her mouth to protest but then decided against it since they had already made it to his door and she couldn’t be more relieved for the privacy and comfort of a home, even if it wasn’t hers.

The moment they made it in, Steve set her down and tugged her to his chest, placing one hand on her back and using the other to raise her chin as he leaned down to ghost his lips over hers.

“Permission to kiss?”

“You kissed me plenty yesterday,” Darcy reminded him, bemused and strangely touched that he was asking her consent.

“It’s a new day,” he murmured, eyes flicking over various spots on her face as if drinking her in. “I wanna be sure we’re on the same page.”

She blinked wordlessly under his intent gaze, only managing a breathless “Uh-huh” as response.

He started slow, teasing her with light brushes and lazy sips as his mouth moved over her skin getting reacquainted with her. There was no sign of the playfulness and laughter from the day before. He was really going for it, kissing her like she was someone important, like he hadn’t just met her a day ago. It was throwing her off, his gentleness, his intensity and the way he held her to him with tender, warm touches that left her wanting. She curled her fingers around his collar and held on stubbornly when he made to pull away.

“If this is your way of welcoming people into your apartment,” she began huskily, “then let me just step out so that you can welcome me again.”

Steve laughed and kissed her nose. “I don’t welcome _everyone_ here this way. Only special people.”

Darcy’s lips tipped up in an impish smile. “People who get trapped with you under a building during an alien invasion?”

“You know any other kind of special?”

“Everyone is special,” she replied firmly and was pleased to note that he looked proud.

Steve’s apartment was lovely, well lit and painted in shades of blue. There was a giant bed by the window; a mounted canvas, covered by a thin sheet, occupied a corner; and, in the middle of the room, a plush grey couch faced a partition with shelves. A flat screen television sat in one of those center shelves. Beyond the partition, Darcy caught a glimpse of the kitchen. The place wasn’t that big but it was much too clean and spacious to be a bachelor’s pad.

Steve led her to the couch and waited until she had settled down to arrange a couple of cushions behind her for comfort. He took a seat to her left and angled his body toward her so that he could watch her.

“Do you like it?” he asked when he caught her looking around with interest.

Darcy nodded. “It’s very _you_. How do you keep it so neat?” She just couldn’t get over how clean everything was and she couldn’t really imagine him with a vacuum cleaner and duster. That was so very un-Captain America.

“I don’t. Someone does it for me,” Steve replied sheepishly, confirming her doubts.

Darcy tsked. “How responsible of you.”

“Hey,” he protested, tickling her side as punishment. “I’d take care of this place myself if I had the time. Sometimes, I’m away for weeks on end and I don’t like to come home to dust mites.”

That was understandable. Darcy was a clean freak, too. But she was used to cleaning her own space, never having had enough money to pay someone else to do it. Steve’s apartment may not be cluttered but there were a lot of things there that fascinated her. The covered canvas was one of them. She wondered if it was blank or if he really could paint. She remembered him telling her yesterday that his favorite place in New York was the Met. He didn’t seem like the artist type. But then, before she met him, she hadn’t assumed him to be laidback and funny either.

“So, what did you plan for today?” she asked, turning to find him watching her curiously. “What?”

“Why don’t you live at the tower with Jane?”

So he had looked her up. Darcy didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I don’t work for her anymore.” She shrugged. “I’m looking for a job in PR or HR, I don’t really care. I’ll take about any job right now but of a scientist’s assistant. It’s not my field.”

“Did you apply in Stark Industries? They have a massive PR team.”

“I did. I haven’t got a call back yet.” She hadn’t expected one either. She didn’t have a lot of experience in PR, nor had she completed her political science degree at Culver. She was just a glorified assistant who had helped save the world once or twice. “If nothing works out,” she told Steve with a grin. “I’ll move to Paris and become a Disney Princess in Disneyland.”

Steve looked disturbed but when she mentioned her plan B, he nodded sagely. “You’d make a great Snow White.”

Darcy perked up. “I know, right?! I’ve been trying to tell Jane the same thing.”

Jane hadn’t been very happy at her suggestion. She wanted Darcy by her side at all times but Darcy had always known she couldn’t stay in Jane’s shadow forever. She wanted to find something that was hers, that she enjoyed and where there was less chance of her ending up in a coffin six feet under following another alien attack.

Not that she had anything against helping save the world, but Darcy _knew_ that there was more out there for her, despite her lacking experience and educational qualification.

She told Steve about the various things she could do and the handful of places where she had applied. He listened intently, offering his opinion and advice where necessary. She found that he knew a lot about a lot of things and while he wasn’t hesitant to show his disapproval about something, he also wasn’t one to rant about stuff either. He told her he could put a word in about her to Stark but when she refused, he dropped the subject.

It was easy to talk to him. Occasional silence wasn’t awkward and they jumped from one topic to another without having to think about what they were going to say. Their conversation mostly flowed well, broken only when Steve leaned in to sneak kisses that she was more than willing to give.

At one point, he stood up, got an icepack from the fridge—much to her astonishment—and applied it to her ankle. It didn’t seem like he was trying hard to be nice or he wanted her to like him. Everything was just so casual with him that Darcy couldn’t quite believe how completely incredible he was. Even more unbelievable was how utterly focused he was on her, raptly listening to her every word, sitting close to her side, threading his fingers through her hair, looking at her as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world…

Was it possible to fall in love with someone you just met? Because she was clearly reaching that point with Steve. He was, for lack of a better word, unreal!

“Do you paint?” she asked him during lunch. Steve knew how to cook but they had ordered food anyway because he didn’t want to waste time in the kitchen while she sat on the couch with her sprained foot.

“Next time you visit, I’ll whip up something nice for you,” he promised her and Darcy had felt such an intense happiness at hearing him say there would be a next time for them that she had merely nodded with a barely restrained smile.

Presently, she sensed him put his fork down and follow her gaze to the sheet covered canvas. “I studied art in the forties,” he told her with a smile. “If I hadn’t joined the army, I’d have been an artist.”

Darcy stared at him, annoyed. “Is there _anything_ that you can’t do?”

“I can’t get drunk.”

“Right. And that’s a flaw,” she muttered sarcastically, amusing him further.

“If you want flaws,” he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “then stick with me. I guarantee you’ll discover a handful in a few short weeks.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Pfft. You’re perfect.”

“So are you.”

“I just act like it ‘cause I wanna impress you.” His eyes snapped to hers and she flinched, cursing her brain to mouth filter. It wasn’t exactly true. She had meant it more as a joke. Darcy had never learned how to impress people but she had to admit, she was unconsciously being more than normally enthusiastic and animated with Steve. So, either he was bringing out the best in her or… she _was_ trying to impress him. She couldn’t be sure.

“I’m already impressed, Darcy,” he revealed after a pause and she flushed at the softness in his voice.

He let her limp over to the canvas after lunch and lift up the sheet. To her disappointment, the canvas was blank. She gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. “I haven’t sketched anything in a while.”

“Artist’s block?”

“Something like that.” He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. “Want me to draw you?”

“You mean in the nude?” Darcy teased.

He poked her in the stomach. “I mean in any way you want.”

While that would be fun, Darcy had another idea. “Can I draw you instead?” she asked, turning her face to look at him.

He quirked a brow. “I don’t know. Can you?”

She elbowed him and he sniggered. “I’ll have you know, I won the 3rd grade art competition in my school.”

“If you say so,” Steve said casually but she could hear the smile in his voice.

Well, she would show him. She ordered him to pull up the high stool and hopped on it with his help. Then, she grabbed the charcoal stick and paused to think about how she was going to proceed, if she wanted him to pose like a model in front of her or if she could draw him from memory. Her decision was made when he wrapped himself around her again while she contemplated. There was no way she was asking him to move from that position. She liked it when he touched her.

“You can stand here,” she told him generously. “But you have to keep your eyes closed. And you’ll open them only when I tell you to.”

If he was confused by her strange request, he didn’t show it. He obediently closed his eyes and turned his head away. She felt his cheek rest on her shoulder and giggled when he let out a couple of fake snores. Darcy touched the charcoal to the canvas and drew an experimental line. She hadn’t done this in a long time. Taking a deep breath, she began, her hand moving over the canvas in short strokes as she started with the face. Steve had an interesting face – strong jaw, lush lips, long enviable eyelashes, neat blond hair. She imagined all that and tried to replicate it on the canvas. She wasn’t succeeding with the likeness but she was still pretty proud of what she had done so far.

Steve stood unmoving behind her, pretending to nap on her shoulder, his fingers locked loosely together in her lap. But the moment she absently traced a hand over his bare forearm, raking her nails over the fine hair there and curling her fingers around his wrist, his grip around her waist tightened and he turned to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey!” Darcy huffed, startled. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, pressing a line of soft butterfly kisses along her jaw.

The charcoal stick shook in her fingers as a shiver ran down her spine. “Steve,” she complained. “I can’t concentrate if you keep this up.”

“Be quick about it then,” he groused, continuing to lavish one side of her face with deliberately sloppy kisses.

Darcy squealed and tried to push him away with one hand. “Such impatience.”

“You wanted flaws,” he reminded her wryly. “Now I’m going to count till ten in my head. If you’re not done by then, I’ll open my eyes.”

“Nooooo,” wailed Darcy, staring sadly at her half-done drawing.

“Countdown has begun.”

“Shit, okay.” She quickly sketched the pants and was working on the second boot when Steve announced he was opening his eyes.

Darcy turned in her seat a little so that she could see his reaction. He studied the cartoon-like sketch of him in silence, his narrowed gaze taking in the unnaturally square jaw, the exaggeratedly broad shoulders, the comb in his left hand pointing to a speech bubble ‘I keep his hair perfectly neat at all times’ (here, Steve snorted and shook his head) and finally the dip of his torso where his eyes stopped in bafflement.

“This is disproportionate,” he said with a frown. “I don’t have a tiny waist.”

“Dude, look in the mirror,” chirped Darcy, deliberately darkening his slender waistline with the charcoal stick to annoy him. “You have the waist of a ten year old girl.”

“Must be a really obese ten year old, then.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

She squeaked when he suddenly attacked her with his fingers, tickling her mercilessly until she was curled into a ball against him, shrieking with laughter.

“Okay, okay. You have a normal…” Her words stretched into another mirthful shriek when his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. She panted, “I mean, you’ve a very _manly_ waist.”

He seemed appeased but tickled her some more as punishment. Darcy tried to wrestle his hands away and turned to face him properly. “That’s enough, Captain Bighead.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and bent down to blow a raspberry near her ear, sending her in peels again.

“I love your laugh,” he said, straightening up with a satisfied smile.

Darcy wiped the happy tears from her eyes and tried to catch her breath. Her arms went around Steve’s neck and she sighed wistfully. “I don’t ever want to leave. I’m having so much fun with you.”

He didn’t comment, just watched her quietly. Not for the first time, Darcy wondered what he saw in her, what had made him kiss her in the first place, what had made him invite her over. She wasn’t doubting her awesomeness but it was also very clear that he was _way_ out of her league.

“I can hear you thinking,” Steve murmured, stroking his knuckles down her jaw. “Tell me what you’re pondering in that pretty head of yours.”

Darcy’s heart skipped. She couldn’t ask him what she wanted to ask him because, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out a way to frame a sentence that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete idiot. So, she shook her head and tapped her nose secretively.

“Not now.”

He didn’t press her and readily let her pull him down for a kiss. She would figure him out one day— _if_ they were still together—but right then, she would stop brooding and enjoy his company. They had the potential to make each other happy, so why not do just that when they had the chance?


	11. Lab-sitting for Jane Foster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to Hollyspacey's fantastic prompt on [tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/159052734304/here-is-a-prompt-for-youshieldshock-they).

It was just his luck to walk by the science labs when Jane Foster was going on a break. The astrophysicist grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, giving him big sad eyes that she knew Steve would be unable to resist.

“Look after my machine for me while I get coffee?” she asked hopefully.

The machine in question was small, _considerably_ smaller than those in Tony’s lab, and it whirred and beeped quietly in the middle of the room, looking for all the world like a cheap, old age coffee machine. On the other side of that metal contraption sat Jane’s assistant, Darcy, ears plugged and working on her laptop, her head bopping away to some godawful loud music that Steve could hear all the way to where he was standing. He raised an eyebrow at Jane.

“Isn’t that _her_ job?” he asked, nodding toward the assistant.

Jane looked sheepish. “She’s working on the data and… um… it’s a new machine. I don’t really trust anyone with it.”

“Not even your assistant?”

Jane huffed impatiently. “Look, just sit here and make sure no one touches it while I’m gone.”

“Fine,” sighed Steve. “But if you’re not back in half an hour, I’m leaving.”

Jane looked ready to squeal. She squeezed his arm gratefully and practically bounced out of the door. Judging by her abnormally wide smile, it was clear that she wasn’t _just_ going to get coffee. A certain demigod was always involved when Jane was this happy.

Steve took a seat on a rolling chair and raised his feet to rest comfortably on Jane’s desk, throwing his head back to stare at the white ceiling in resignation. He was such a pushover sometimes. Well, while he was there, he could at least appreciate the quiet in Jane’s lab. Unlike Tony’s bots, Jane’s machines knew how to behave. They emitted soft noises and tiny beeps but refrained from demanding attention with useless squeaks and whooshing noises which were so commonplace in Tony’s lab.

That’s exactly the reason Steve was alarmed when, the very next second, Jane’s new machine grunted and emitted a loud grating noise that forced him out of his chair and over to the lab assistant in no time. She removed her ear phones and stared at the machine in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked her urgently.

“I don’t know.”

So, this wasn’t normal then. Great. He raised a brow at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be prepared for this kind of thing?”

“Do I look like a Nobel prize winning scientist to you?” Lewis snapped. “Jeez, Cap!”

Steve took a calming breath and bit back the retort that was on the tip of his tongue. Time and again he was reminded why he chose to stay away from Darcy Lewis. She was mouthy and called him Cap, which reminded him so much of Tony that he was beginning to hate the resemblance. She was also pretty clueless about everything science related, which begged the reason why Jane kept her around.

“Let me just…” Lewis mumbled as she carefully stepped up to the machine and peered inside. “Maybe I should…?” When she raised a hand as if to stick it into the machine’s depths, Steve hurried forward and pulled her away from it.

“Are you out of your mind?” he reprimanded her. “You could lose a hand.”

“It’s an atmospheric anomaly analyzer with a built in stabilizer and pressure generator,” Lewis told him mockingly. “Not a mixer grinder.”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t totally clueless, Steve admitted grudgingly. But he wasn’t about to let her finger the analyzer without being completely sure that it wouldn’t blow up in their faces. He had been a victim to many a blowups in Bruce’s lab and he was still trying to get over the last one.

“Can’t we shut it down?” he asked, still holding firmly onto her arm.

She shook her head. “It’s recalibrating. Jane will kill me if I shut it down and her scheduled experiment gets delayed.”

“So, what do we do?” Without waiting for an answer, he released his grip on her and pulled out his phone. He would call Jane. As simple as that. She would come running at the first grunt of her machine, even if she and Thor were in the middle of… something.

While he was turned away, Darcy sidled up to the analyzer and did exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do. She touched it. It was warm and vibrating beneath her fingers. The grating noise had stopped but it was still whirring at a loud and dangerous pace. Darcy curiously tapped the pressure meter and studied the buttons next to it. Maybe if she switched off the generator, the analyzer could continue recalibrating in peace. Or maybe the entire thing would shut down. Should she take the risk?

Her index finger decided for her and before she could even blink, there was a boom and a hiss as all the pressure in the machine was released and Darcy found herself flying through the air, a shriek escaping her lips as she landed directly on top of an unfortunate Captain America. He was turned away from her when he went down with the force of her body hitting his and the air rushed out of his lungs in a painful whoosh.

Steve had tried to break the fall with his hands but his chest hurt and he could feel a bruise forming on his cheek due to abrupt contact with the floor. He opened his eyes to see waves of dark hair blocking his view. Darcy Lewis was lying right on top of him, her arms caging his and her knees digging into the back of his thighs.

Steve closed his eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in his cheek and in the heels of his palms, and took a minute to wonder why he had agreed to lab-sit for Jane Foster in the first place. And why had he averted his attention from Lewis for even a minute? She was a disaster waiting to happen.

She moaned and wiggled on his back. “I think the generator exploded.”

“You think?” Steve grabbed a fistful of her hair and held it up so that he could see the damage she had wrought. “Get off me, Lewis.”

“Why so cranky?” she joked halfheartedly, sliding sideways to slump beside him in shock. “It wasn’t my fault. The generator malfunctioned.”

Steve heaved himself up so that he could flop onto his back and relieve some pressure from his chest. “You keep telling yourself that,” he muttered, gingerly touching his bruised cheek. “No one is going to believe you.”

“Why, you plan to tattle-tail?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’ll figure it out when they check the machine, Lewis.”

“They can’t prove anything,” said Darcy, “if we stick to the story.”

She was blankly watching the ceiling, just like he was, and her chest heaved in an erratic pattern as adrenaline still rushed through her system. Steve pursed his lips and decided to set her straight.

“One, there is no story. Two, there is no _we_.”

“They’re going to question us–”

“There is no _us_ ,” he insisted grumpily. “You were the one who blew up the generator.”

“I did not! It malfunctioned!”

“Therefore, _you_ will be the one to answer all questions and take all the blame. I’m out of here the moment Jane returns.”

“How chivalrous of you,” mocked Darcy, throwing him an ugly look.

Steve ignored her and instead focused all his energy on getting his heartbeats under control. He felt a bit dizzy and was in no mood to budge from his not-so-comfortable-but-not-uncomfortable-either position on the lab floor. Darcy must feel the same because she, too, didn’t move. And that’s how Jane found them ten minutes later, sprawled side by side on the lab floor, not talking, not moving, just lying there as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed, hastening to her beloved machine and completely disregarding the two possibly injured people in her lab.

Darcy sighed and asked softly, “Did I break a rib?”

Steve turned on his side and ran a hand over her torso, careful not to stray too close to her ample assets. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

To his surprise, Darcy blushed. “I was asking about _you_ ,” she murmured. “Did I break anything of yours when I fell on you?”

Steve felt a rush of warmth fill his cheeks and he snatched his hand away from her person. “Oh. Um… no, I don’t think so.”

She nodded, her lips ticking up in relief. “Good.”

“We should get up.”

She quirked a teasing brow. “I thought you said there’s no we.”

Steve snorted. Maybe Darcy Lewis wasn’t so bad. And maybe lab-sitting for Jane hadn’t been so bad either. But he was still never setting foot in this part of the facility… ever!


	12. Of wedding gowns & topless models

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. gifset that _Joey99_ sent to me on tumblr. It was supposed to be a short little thing but then McGregorsWench wanted more and I decided to [feed her greed](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/159807269969/of-wedding-gowns-and-topless-models). :D

After a tiring day filled with a normal amount of explosions in the lab, Tony dragged his feet up to his penthouse to find Pepper, Darcy and Jane lounging on the couch, bonding over a magazine of suspicious content. They were dressed in wedding gowns and Tony could only blink as he paused to let his gaze wander over all three of them in surprise. Darcy was wearing a veil, and a tiara sat lopsided on Pepper’s head.

“I don’t even want to know,” Tony mumbled when they looked up and greeted him with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Pepper blew him a kiss and shouted something that sounded very much like ‘bunnyyyyyyy.’ Tony made a face. She never called him bunny. It was unlike her to call him anything other than Tony or Mr. Stark or your highness.

Their wedding wasn’t until June but Tony still wondered whether he was allowed to see his bride-to-be in her wedding dress before the auspicious day. He shrugged and walked over to the bar to fix himself a drink. The women had gone back to laughing amongst themselves. He had just downed his first glass of whiskey when Darcy called his name.

Hiccupping loudly and turning the magazine in her hand to show him the picture of a topless model, she enquired innocently, “You know where her shirt is?”

Tony’s lips quirked. They were reading a porno. “I’m not really interested in finding out, are you?” he replied roguishly.

Jane burst into giggles, slapping a hand over her mouth as she snorted loudly.

Clearly, they were drunk.

“She probably left it by the lake when she went skinny dipping,” Pepper said, snatching the mag from Darcy and flipping the page.

“And now she has forgotten where she put it…” mused Jane, fingering the wine bottle gripped tightly between her thighs.

“So she’s wandering the green fields naked looking for her clothes,” hiccupped Darcy, nodding. “Poor Emily.”

As amused as he was, Tony didn’t think the person scheduled to pay him a visit in—he looked at his watch—five minutes would appreciate the awesomeness that was this drunken non-wedding party. He pulled out his phone to call Steve.

“Hey, buddy,” he chirped when the Captain picked up. “What say you about a rain check on our meeting tonight? We’ll talk about my carelessness at filling mission reports tomorrow… or never.”

“Tony, I’m already on your floor. Be there in a second.” The line went dead and a moment later, the AI informed Tony that Captain Rogers had arrived. Tony shrugged and tuned in on the women again.

Darcy was speaking. “… can’t find them, so she has no choice but to cook naked.”

“And milk the cows naked,” Jane chimed in, taking a big, sloppy gulp of wine.

“And greet the delivery guy naked,” added Pepper, snickering. “You know, that guy looks a lot like—”

“STEVE!” Darcy cried when she saw him walk into the den.

Tony watched as the Captain stopped in his tracks, eyes going wide at the sight of his sloshed girlfriend. Well, technically, she wasn’t his girlfriend. Yet. They had gone on _one_ date and Tony had a hunch there would be more but now that Steve had seen her in a wedding dress, all bets were off.

As Darcy stumbled over to Steve, the magazine clutched firmly in her hand and the veil falling comically over her face, Tony decided that the next few moments were either going to be disastrous or the best rom-com moments in history.

“Hi,” Darcy breathed, coming to a stop in front of a stunned Steve and swaying dangerously. “Did you deliver Emily’s mail this morning?”

Steve looked her up and down, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “Why are you wearing a… wait, who’s Emily?”

Darcy shoved the magazine in his face. “This is Emily.”

Steve looked scandalized and Tony couldn’t contain a bark of laughter at the expression on his face. Darcy continued explaining as if nothing was wrong.

“She lost all her clothes and… pfft… are you _ever_ going to ask me out again? Pfft!” The veil of net covering her face was beginning to irritate her. She made the strange spitting noise again, swiping wildly at her nose. “What is this on my face?”

“Darcyyyyy,” Jane slurred. “Give us back the magazine while you flirt with Cap.”

Darcy ignored her, turning a full circle in an utterly useless attempt to remove her veil. “Steve, help.”

Man, she was really, really out of it. Tony sauntered over to sit beside Pepper. A better angle to watch the show from. Steve was trying to help Darcy but she wasn’t being easy.

“Hold still, Darcy, hold still,” the super soldier instructed, catching her arm and steadying her before gently raising the veil over her head.

“Take it all off,” Darcy ordered much to Steve’s shock, pulling at her wedding dress. “It’s… _hic_ … itchy.”

Tony shifted his gaze when Pepper turned to look at him solemnly. “No veil. Material shouldn’t be itchy. It shouldn’t be too poofy. It’s too much work.” She paused as if to contemplate something important. “Maybe we should have naked wedding…”

“Pep,” grinned Tony. “I’m totally on board with that.” Pepper was a hoot when wasted. He couldn’t wait to see her face in the morning when he reminded her what all she said tonight.

Meanwhile, Darcy had twisted her hand behind her back and was tugging furiously at her zipper. “Get it off. Get it… _hic_ … off me!”

“Darcy…” said Steve, alarmed.

“I wanna be like Emily.”

Tony smirked and shrugged when the Captain looked at him for help. Beside him, Pepper and Jane had burst into raucous laughter. With luck, his loyal AI was recording all this. This shit was gold.

Darcy had managed to tug her zipper halfway down when Steve finally came to his senses and took matters into his own hands.

Literally.

He pushed her determined hands away from the zipper, ripped the veil from her head and threw it on the floor unceremoniously, and finally in a surprising move, he yanked the dress down her shoulders. Just a little so that she would stop complaining. Her virtue was still very safe. Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve, who sighed and wrapped a bulky arm around a fidgety, hiccupping Darcy, slowly leading her out of the room.

“Come on, let’s take you back to your apartment.”

“But I haven’t… _hic_ … finished my drink.”

“Finish it some other time, okay?”

Tony shook his head, impressed. Never let it be said that Steve Rogers was completely hopeless with women. He sure stepped up under pressure.

Their muffled voices drifted to the den as they exited the penthouse, Darcy’s little whines and Steve’s soft responses.

“This dress is really itchy.”

“I’ll help you take it off when we get to your room.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Once the voices faded, Pepper cooed, “That is so sweet. Why can’t you be more like Steve?” She slapped Tony’s arm.

“Hey! I’m better than Steve!”

Jane sniffed and moaned, “She took Emily with her. What will we do now?”

Tony sat up with interest. “Why don’t you start by telling me why you three decided to be brides today?”

*****

Darcy was unusually quiet in the elevator as they rode down to her and Jane’s floor, her small hiccups breaking the silence every once in a while. She looked gorgeous in a wedding gown, Steve thought, her dark hair and red lips contrasting perfectly with the pure white of her dress. He gritted his teeth and looked straight ahead in a bid to not stare too much. His hand had wandered down from her shoulder to her waist, holding her securely to his side and preventing her from stumbling too much.

“Itchy,” Darcy murmured when they reached her apartment and Steve ordered the AI to unlock the door.

The moment they stepped inside her space, she started tugging on her zipper with renewed fervor, her feet moving automatically in the direction of her bedroom. Steve didn’t have time to admire the surroundings—he caught a glimpse of a bookshelf and a mantle stacked with photo frames and snow globes before Darcy called his name and he hastened after her.

She was waiting for him with her arms spread wide and giving him the saddest most innocent look ever.

“I ripped it,” she said with an adorable pout, looking down at the shredded outer layer of net courtesy of her own impatience.

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed, walking over and tucking a curl behind her ear. “We’ll get it fixed.”

She hiccupped and fidgeted uncomfortably, so he took pity on her and said, “Now I’m going to help you take this off but you have to promise that you’ll stay still and be patient.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, swaying slightly.

Steve squeezed his eyes tight shut, took a deep breath and reached behind her to slide the zipper down the rest of the way. There was an appropriate distance between their bodies and his hands were careful not to graze her skin, but this was honestly the hardest thing Steve had ever done. Undressing the person he was attracted to and not allowed to do anything beyond that was the most exquisite torture.

He cursed the doombots invasion two days ago and the bomb blast before that for preventing him from taking Darcy out again. Two missed opportunities. If they hadn’t missed those dates, he wouldn’t have to restrain himself so much in the present moment.

What did people say about the three date rule?

“Wait,” Darcy cried abruptly and he snatched his hands from her waist guiltily, as if he had been doing something wrong. Which he wasn’t, he later tried to rationalize.

“What? What is it?” His tone was nervous and he dared not open his eyes.

“Steve.” He heard her giggle. “Don’t you have… _hic_ … any manners?”

Sure he did, but they were in her bedroom and she was asking him to take her clothes off. Where does a person add manners to that mix?

Darcy continued, “Don’t you… _hic_ … know you have to kiss a woman before you… _hic_ … before you undress her?”

Her words kept blending together when she spoke but there was no way that Steve didn’t catch the word ‘kiss’ amidst all that adorable slurring. He froze on the spot with his head bent to her level and eyes roving wildly behind his eyelids, wondering what he had gotten himself into and when he had eaten last because his stomach was flip-flopping like crazy.

“Darcy,” he began uncertainly. “I don’t think this is a good time to—”

The words died in his throat when he felt something touch his lips. Something soft and smooth. Too smooth to be what he had initially expected.

It was her cheek. She was holding her cheek against his mouth and Steve couldn’t decide if he was more relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t another part of her face. He smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to her skin. But a moment later when she still hadn’t pulled away, he had no choice but to assume that she wanted him to kiss her again.

Steve swallowed hard, wishing desperately that he could open his eyes and see. Shutting down his sense of sight meant everything—every sound, smell and emotion—was heightened. It’s what made it difficult for him to resist, to step back and pull her dress down in one careless motion.

Heart fluttering with anticipation, Steve parted his lips and dared himself to taste her properly, pressing another kiss to her cheek. Darcy hiccupped softly and didn’t resist when he gently tugged both her sleeves down her arms, taking the bodice down with them.

He could sense her relax. Her breathing deepened and she stopped fidgeting, standing fairly still clutching Steve’s arms for support. His mouth wandered lower and he kept her distracted with light kisses along the jaw while his hands worked to push her dress down her hips. It was easy to get lost in the moment, to forget everything but the feel of her skin against his lips and the faint flowery scent of her perfume mingled with the smell of alcohol, but Steve fought to maintain focus, reminding himself again and again that she was drunk and, as such, not in her right mind.

Once she was out of the dress, he brushed one last lingering kiss on her cheek and pulled away. “There. All done,” he said and if his voice was a little shaky, no one was there to call him out on it.

When Darcy merely yawned and leaned sleepily into him, seeking his warmth, Steve knew that his work there was done. He would put her to bed, tuck her in, then open his eyes and _look_ at her because there was no way in hell he was walking out of the room without seeing her a final time.

He silently hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long before taking her out again. If he was lucky, the next time he was undressing her, he wouldn’t have to keep his eyes closed either.


	13. Birthday Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this [wonderful image set](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/159956256139/shieldshockfanfic-shieldshock-image-setimagine) by Glynnisi on tumblr.

“Can you not bounce on me when I’m trying to sleep?” Steve groaned, raising his hand to lightly swat at his enthusiastic girlfriend.

Her laughter tinkled around him and he felt her shift down his body to sit directly over the juncture between his legs. He decided it was better when she was straddling his abdomen.

“Steve, come on,” wheedled Darcy, running her hands temptingly up his chest. “It’s your birthday. I lit up the room for you. Open your eyes.”

“It’s midnight. My birthday starts 7 am onwards because that’s when I was born,” Steve grumbled stubbornly, throwing one arm over his face to block the assault of the twinkling lights on his closed eyelids.

Darcy pinched his nipple in retaliation and Steve inhaled sharply. He knew she wouldn’t let up once she had her mind set on something. She was relentless, his little minx, and Steve had never been able to resist her attempts to sweet-talk him into the things she wanted but he _did_ have enough willpower to hold out until she resorted to desperate measures.

Darcy’s desperate measures were extremely fulfilling.

“Steve,” she said, dragging out the syllable into a whine. “I’m not letting you sleep until you open your eyes and look at what I’ve done with the room.”

Steve kept his arm over his eyes lest curiosity get the better of him. It was impressive that she had managed to decorate the room while he was sleeping. He was normally a very light sleeper but he must have been really out of it that night if he hadn’t heard her padding around the room, looping twinkly lights everywhere.

He felt the tips of her hair brush along his bare chest and a moment later she was draped over him, her arms caging his head and her lips grazing over his cheek. She murmured his name again.

“We don’t have to cut cake and sing songs,” she whispered, moving down to nip at his jaw. “I know of this incredibly fun thing that couples do on their birthdays.”

_Oh, yeah?_

“Yeah,” she said as if reading his mind. “You must have heard of it. It’s called birthday sex.”

Her mouth slid lower to press sucking kisses to the skin of his neck and Steve shivered, abandoning his pretense at disinterest to bring both hands down to rest on her waist. Heat pooled low in his belly when she rolled her hips into his with deliberate slowness.

“Darcy,” Steve warned, even as his hands slid under her panties to cup her ass.

“It’s a tradition we can’t ignore,” persisted Darcy, grazing her teeth over his collarbone. She smiled when he twitched beneath her and gripped her harder. “Or,” she went on impishly, sliding a hand down his body to palm him through his boxers. “You can continue pretending to sleep while I have all the fun.”

She let out a sigh dramatic enough for Steve to finally open his eyes and flip them over until he was on top of her, nestled comfortably between her legs. Darcy gasped and blinked at him while he glared down at her in mock annoyance.

“That was so hot,” she declared, looping her arms around his neck and trying to pull him down for a kiss.

“Your seduction strategies won’t work on me,” said Steve, the huskiness of his voice implying otherwise.

Darcy’s gaze dropped to the notable bulge in his boxers and she raised a brow at him, her lips curving into a smug smile. “ _Something_ tells me you lie, Steven Grant.”

Steve sighed. Betrayed by his own body. Not that it was a new occurrence. Certain parts of him never failed to react when Darcy was around. He snapped his hips into hers and watched with satisfaction as her mouth fell open and her eyelids fluttered.

“Does this mean we’re partaking in the birthday tradition?” she breathed.

Steve looked at the fairylights twinkling happily above them, at the lovely paper lanterns that bathed the room in a soft orange glow, at the handmade ‘Happy Birthday’ banner taped to the wall… and his eyes widened a little at how beautiful everything looked. He turned his gaze back to Darcy and swooped down to capture her lips in a sound kiss.

“Yes, we are,” he whispered against her mouth, slipping his hand under the shirt— _his_ shirt—she was wearing and squeezing her waist.

Darcy made a tiny squealing noise and beamed at him. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

While Steve chuckled and quickly tried to divest her of the scarce clothing she had on, Darcy babbled on about baking a cake for him and coating it with copious amounts of chocolate frosting just the way he liked. Steve listened with little interest, more focused on getting her naked and exploring the new skin he uncovered with each pop of a button.

But he paused abruptly and raised his head to look at her when she mentioned something about there being extra frosting.

“There’s leftover frosting?” he asked her, the wheels in his head turning.

Darcy nodded, rubbing the sole of her foot over his calf. “Yeah, I thought I’d use it the next time I bake a…” her voice trailed away when she saw the familiar twinkle in Steve’s eye. His tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip and Darcy’s breath hitched in her throat. Without asking, she knew what was going on in his devious little mind.

Steve smirked. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Darcy huffed out a giddy laugh, excitement bubbling inside her. “You know I am.” She pushed at him until he let her roll out from beneath him. “I’ll go get the frosting. You grab that old bed sheet from the closet.”

Steve bounced up on his knees to pull Darcy in for a quick kiss. “Yes, ma’am.”


	14. Steve Rogers is a sneaky bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to PieAnnamay07's prompt on [tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/162986170919/shieldshock-prompt-steve-needs-a-date-for-an): Steve needs a date for an event. Enter Darcy.

“No.” Darcy swiped Steve’s shirt from the foot of the bed and put it on. “Never.”

“Come on, Darce.”

She felt Steve’s arm curl around her waist and pull her back against him. “No way in hell, Steve,” she said, determined to ignore his puppy dog eyes and coaxing touches. “You know how bored I get at these high profile parties. Everywhere I look, there’s a Miss Priss fluttering about in a sparkly dress and a Mr. Cocky boasting about his various successful businesses. Ugh, I can’t stand them!”

Steve bit back a smile and nuzzled his nose into Darcy’s hair. “I’ll make sure to keep you distracted.” Darcy elbowed him and he grinned. “Not like that. We’ll stay together and I’ll keep Miss Priss and Mr. Cocky away from you.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and settled against him properly, sighing as he brushed light kisses along the back of her neck. “Tempting, but no.”

“You’d send your boyfriend to a party alone?”

“I won’t be blackmailed, Captain.” He bit her shoulder in retaliation and Darcy giggled. “Still no.”

“Doll,” grumbled Steve. “Tony and I are the only Avengers attending, and I’m a hundred and ten percent sure he’s going to leave me to fend for myself the moment someone says _science_.”

“Screw Tony.”

“Exactly. With you there, women won’t dare approach me.”

Darcy turned in his arms to regard him with narrowed eyes. “So, basically, you want me to go so I can scare off your wacky fangirls?”

Steve blinked innocently. “Um…”

“Steve!” Darcy huffed, pushing against his chest, trying to get away from him. But he laughed and held her tighter, murmuring an apology in her hair.

“I was kidding.” He paused and grinned. “Well, no, not totally.” Darcy glared at him. “But that’s not the only reason I want you to come with me. I don’t want to be alone and you’re really the only person I want by my side.”

“Hmm.” Darcy placed her arms around his shoulders and pressed closer. “Are you saying you like my company the best outta all your friends?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Awww.” She let slip a smile. “That’s sweet.”

Steve beamed. “So, you’ll come?”

“Nope,” replied Darcy cheerfully.

His face fell, a scowl replacing the bright smile. He looked away for a while, his expression thoughtful. Darcy assumed he’d finally given up when he sighed dramatically and said, “Fine. I guess I’ve no choice but to ask Sharon.”

There was a long pause, in which Darcy fought to hold back a verbal explosion and Steve tried not to be smug. He knew he’d won, even before Darcy grit out, “I suppose my blue dress will be perfect for the occasion. You like me in it, don’t you?”

Steve grinned. “I love you in it.”


	15. All Hallow's Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt given by PieAnnamay07: _Darcy gets stranded somewhere and Steve comes to the rescue. It can be a first meeting type thing or an established relationship. Or, they know each other, but not very well._
> 
> [Link on tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/167130959234/shieldshock-prompt-darcy-gets-stranded-somewhere)

“What did you say her name was?”

Steve Rogers adjusted the backpack on his shoulder as he jogged back toward his bike. He was running low on fuel, not just for his bike but for himself as well. Sad blue eyes fixed on the motel before him, drawn there by the lovely smell of food and the muffled sound of eighties music. He was supposed to be in there, soaking up the warmth and eating a hearty meal after a long day’s journey. But his emergency phone had gone off before he had even reached the door of the motel.

“Lewis,” the distracted voice of Clint Barton floated through from the other end of the line. “Darcy Lewis. She’s hard to miss. Dark hair, short, mouthy… well endowed.”

Steve snorted at his choice of words. “Right. Send me the location. I’ll get to her as soon as I can.”

“Great. She’s just down the road. Drive straight.” There was a pause, then Clint spoke in a hurry, “The party’s starting. Gotta go.”

“Clint, send me her location!” Steve repeated forcefully but the line was already dead. “Excellent,” he muttered, stuffing the phone in his pocket and kick starting his bike.

Why had he decided to return home? He was better off living alone in the hills with just his shield for company. People expected too much of him. Not that helping a dame—whose car had broken down in the middle of the highway—was demanding work, but it had been his last day with himself, the final few hours before he had to haul himself back to a life of avenging and superhero-ing.

He had been looking forward to a peaceful dinner and a good night’s sleep, but there he was, driving around blindly in the night in search of a woman he’d never met.

The road was dark and deserted, light rain sleeked up the asphalt, and the thin fog made it difficult to see over a certain distance. Steve kept his eyes and ears open as he drove. Clint didn’t call him again, nor did his phone beep with Darcy Lewis’ location. God, he had such idiots for friends. _She’s just down the road. Drive straight._ What the hell kind of instruction was that? He had been scouring the highway for the past ten minutes and he hadn’t come across a single broken down car.

Five minutes later, wet and irritated, he was on the verge of giving up and calling Clint when flashing amber lights in the distance caught his eye. Steve squinted through the mist and realized they were car indicator lights. His fingers curled firmly around the accelerator and he sped down the road at full throttle, skidding to a halt behind a bright yellow Beetle.

A creature that was most definitely not human stepped out from behind the hood and regarded him in awe. “Well, I’ll be damned,” it said with a delighted laugh. “Captain America in the flesh. I thought Clint was dicking around when he said he was sending America’s favorite son to rescue me.”

Steve sighed and slid off his bike. He was so not in the mood for smartass fangirls. “Ma’am,” he greeted with forced politeness.

She stuck out her hand for him to shake. Steve noticed she wore fake fingernails, black and pointy, like a witch. “Hi, Captain Perfect. I’m Darcy Lewis. But you already knew that,” she said with a grin.

“Uh… hi.”

She had so much make-up on, he could barely make out her face. Skin painted white and eyes surrounded by dark eye shadow were nothing compared to the purple lipstick that stretched right up till her cheekbones in a creepy perpetual smile. As if that wasn’t enough, her short hair was grimy and fell over her forehead, and her entire body was covered in black leather—shirt, pant, boots, even the belt. A silver buckle, shaped like a skull the size of Steve’s palm, sat on her belt, grinning ominously up at him.

Darcy caught him checking out her costume and proudly brushed her feather epaulettes. “Pretty amazing, huh? I made it myself.”

“Great,” Steve said, trying not to grimace. It was obvious she had worked hard on her costume, but he couldn’t help being a tiny bit spooked by her unnaturally wide smile and long fake nails. Besides, he had no idea who or what she was supposed to be, so he wasn’t much impressed.

Unperturbed by his reticence, Darcy beckoned him to follow her to the front of her car. “She won’t start. Can you fix her?”

“No,” Steve replied a little too quickly, causing her to raise a brow. “I mean, not right now. The rain’s picking up. We should get going.”

Darcy cast a dubious glance at the slowly thickening fog surrounding them. “Can we reach the tower in time for the party?”

Steve stared at her as if she had lost her mind. The tower was an hour away from where they were. There was no way he was driving all the way there in this weather, especially not on his bike. They’d get soaked in no time.

“No,” he replied emphatically, as if it was obvious. “We’re going to Motel 66 down the road. Spend the night there.”

“What? No!” Darcy exclaimed, slamming the hood shut and shaking her head vehemently. “I’m not going back in the opposite direction. We need to go to the tower.”

“Ms. Lewis,” Steve said brusquely. “It’s dangerous to drive in such weather. A few more minutes and we won’t even be able to see our own feet in this fog.”

Her face fell, or at least her eyes did anyway. It was difficult to accurately read her facial expressions. The fake painted smile was throwing him off.

“But… but I worked so hard on this costume,” Darcy whispered. “I spent weeks preparing for Halloween and now you’re saying I can’t go to Stark’s party?”

Steve wasn’t much of a Halloween fan, didn’t really understand the hype, but he kinda felt sorry for Darcy Lewis and her wasted costume, creepy as it was.

He shot her an apologetic look. “Come on. We’ll come back for your car later.”

They quickly mounted his bike and Steve spun it around, zooming down the way he came from. Darcy clutched his shoulders in a death grip, the pointed tips of her fingernails digging painfully into his shirt.

“Why couldn’t Clint come pick me up?” she shouted over the howl of the wind.

“He knew I was in the vicinity, so he called me instead.”

“Why are _you_ not attending Stark’s party?”

“Not interested.”

He thought he heard her mutter, “Of course, you aren’t,” but decided to ignore it.

Motel 66 came around sooner than he had estimated. The fog there was lighter and someone had turned the porch lights on. Steve sighed at the sight. Just looking at the run down establishment filled him with warmth. He couldn’t wait to go inside and get out of these wet, sticky clothes. A hot shower and soft bed would do him some good after a nearly eighteen hour drive.

Darcy walked beside him, silently seething. She burst through the front door and immediately went to sulk in a corner booth while Steve made a beeline for the reception desk.

“Two rooms for the night.” He slid a wad of bills across the counter.

“Sorry, hon,” said the manager with an apologetic smile. “We only have one room available.”

“Really, any room would do,” Steve insisted. “I don’t care if the bed’s unmade or the room is infested with rodents. Just please, I need two rooms.”

The manager—Elise, her nametag read—straightened up and narrowed her eyes at him. In the span of two seconds, all the friendliness vanished from her face.

“None of our rooms are infested with rodents, _sir_ ,” Elise said indignantly. “Now we only have one room available. Do you want it or not?”

Steve frowned at her tone. “Are you sure? I’m willing to pay extra if that’s what it takes.”

“How generous of you. Please let me check again.” Instead of checking her computer or even her register, Elise kept glaring at him like he’d called her ugly and smelly. “Nope,” she finally declared. “Just the one room.”

Any other day, her attitude would have amused him. But hunger and exhaustion were making him grumpy. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and mumbled in resignation, “I’ll take it.”

“Excellent choice, sir.” She took his money and tossed him the key to his room. “In case you’re interested in dinner, tonight’s special is Zombie Chicken.”

“Sounds delicious,” Steve intoned wryly.

He turned and headed toward Darcy, who was speaking on the phone. To Clint, it seemed, because she ended the call with, “You’re an asshole!”

Other than Tony Stark, Steve only knew one asshole and that was Clint Barton.

“What did he say?” he asked, sliding into the seat opposite Darcy.

“That he can’t come pick me up because he’s having too much fun at the party.” She gave him a desperate look. “Can’t someone, like, fly the quinjet here or something?”

“Ms. Lewis, the quinjet is for missions, not public transport,” Steve informed her tiredly.

Darcy huffed and banged her head against the table once. “I hate this! I’m supposed to be having fun at the party too.”

“It’s just Halloween,” Steve said breezily, flipping open the menu and giving it a quick scan. “Calm down. I’ll order us some food.”

“Calm down?” Darcy cried incredulously, making him wince. “Calm down? Do you have _any_ idea how long it took me to make this costume?”

Steve wisely remained silent.

“No, you don’t. So, don’t you frikking tell me to calm down. I’m entitled to some anger.”

“Is this man bothering you, dear?”

Steve looked up to see Elise looming over them, her beetle eyes fixed suspiciously on him.

“We’re together,” he informed her irritably, then realized what it sounded like and hastened to add, “I mean, not _together_ together but…”

“Oh, I hope not,” Elise mocked, throwing a wink at a bewildered Darcy.

“Ha-ha,” Steve said dully, going back to reading the menu. “I guess we’ll try the Zombie Chicken.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Darcy responded to his questioning gaze.

Elise nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t leave. “That’s a great costume, hon,” she said after a beat, eyeing the bouquet of feathers on Darcy’s shoulders. “It’s from that show, isn’t it? Death Book?”

Darcy looked surprised. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Death Note. You’ve seen it?”

“No, but my husband’s a fan. He’d die of happiness if he saw you in this outfit.”

Steve watched in fascination as Darcy’s entire demeanor changed. She sat up straighter and regarded the manager with shining eyes. “Really? I’d love to meet him.”

Elise laughed. “Come on. He’s right over there.”

Darcy jumped up to follow her. “Be right back, Captain.” She didn’t spare him a single glance.

Steve yawned and rubbed at his burning eyes. His stomach grumbled but he really just wanted to forgo dinner and go to bed. He looked up when a shadow fell over him. It was Elise. He raised a brow at her. She didn’t seem to like him much. So what was she doing voluntarily seeking his company?

Behind her, he could see Darcy at the reception desk, chatting animatedly with a bearded man.

“I can get the food delivered to your room,” Elise suggested when Steve looked back at her. Her begrudging concern toward him was entertaining. “You should change into dry clothes if you don’t wanna fall sick.”

 _I can’t fall sick_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he simply nodded and said, “Thanks.”

Elise jerked her thumb in the direction of Darcy. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine with us.” Having said her bit, she spun around and marched away.

Steve sat there for a minute, contemplating what had happened and wondering if he should know who exactly Darcy Lewis was dressed up as.

“Death Note,” he whispered to himself, pulling out his tiny notebook and scribbling the name on a blank page. Stuffing the book back into his pant pocket, he grabbed his backpack and started toward the stairs, eyes automatically finding a laughing Darcy as she and Elise posed while Elise’s husband wildly snapped their photographs.

Steve shook his head and kept walking, although Darcy’s laughter followed him all the way to the second floor landing. He didn’t know what it was that was making him use his enhanced hearing and keeping it focused on Darcy, but he couldn’t stop himself from listening to her voice. He had never heard anyone laugh so openly, so freely, so loudly before. It was refreshing.

“That man of yours,” Elise’s voice floated up the stairs and Steve paused in the process of unlocking the door to their room. “What’s up with him? Is he such an ass all the time?”

Darcy’s distracted voice followed immediately. “Oh no. Everyone says—hey, do you have any apples? Shinigami like apples. I wanna be holding one for the next photo. Where was I? Oh, yeah. I’m sure he’s just tired. Everyone says he’s a standup guy. He’s Captain America, you know. Saved the world a couple of times.”

There was a trill of amused laughter, then Elise teased, “Oh, yeah? Then, I’m Meryl Streep.”

Steve pushed open the door and walked in, not wanting to eavesdrop anymore. A small, confused smile crept up on his face as he dropped his bag on the floor and stripped out of his shirt. Despite having gotten off to a bad start earlier, Darcy hadn’t once hesitated to stand up for him. He didn’t know what to make of that, what to make of _her_ , considering he could only picture her as a demon from hell with a wide scary smile.

———

He woke up with horrible body cramps. The old Motel 66 couch wasn’t hard or lumpy, but it was a little too small to accommodate all of his bulk. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, cursing under his breath at how shitty he felt.

Leaving the bed for Darcy had seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do, although it came at a price. His neck hurt, his shoulders felt heavy, and when he tried to dig out his phone from underneath the couch cushions, he couldn’t feel his right hand.

The phone showed two missed calls from Clint. Steve called him immediately and the archer picked up on the first ring.

“What’s up, Cap? Looks like you slept in. What, no morning yoga or bird watching for you today?”

“I don’t bird watch.”

“Sure ya do. Nat says you really like ‘em birdies.”

“You’re disgusting.” The other side exploded with rowdy laughter. Steve could make out Tony and Natasha chortling in the background while Clint shamelessly sang a made-up song about Steve and his so-called birdies. Used, by now, to the antics of his idiot friends, Steve sighed and inquired calmly, “Why did you call earlier?”

Clint stopped singing. “Oh, yeah. Tony’s taken care of Darcy’s car. Tell her it’s at the tower, all fixed.”

“Fine.”

“Where is she? How’s she doing?”

Steve glanced at the lump on the bed. “She’s sleeping.” There was a chorus of suggestive _oooh_ s and _aaaah_ s before Steve snapped, “Knock it off. Nothing happened.”

“Whatever you say, Cap. Bring the birdie home safe, okay?”

Steve hung up and proceeded to bury his face in his hands. “Christ.”

The Avengers would be the death of him, he was sure of it. The temptation to turn his bike around and flee back to his little cabin in the mountains was very strong. But logic eventually won out and he grudgingly got to his feet. The serum had worked its magic in the last five minutes while he had been contemplating escape. The cramps were gone and the pain in his neck had ebbed away. Feeling slightly pacified, he started to make his way to the bathroom when he noticed something strange on the floor.

A closer inspection revealed it to be a wig.

Utterly astonished, Steve turned back to the bed and noticed what he had failed to see the first time. Normal creamy skin, long wavy hair, pale pink lips occasionally trembling with tiny snores, a glimpse of bare thigh—

“Shit!” Steve blinked several times, as if he had looked directly at the sun and couldn’t get rid of the burning light behind his retinas.

He quickly averted his eyes from her leg and found himself studying her face instead. She looked so different without the demon make-up. Obviously, he hadn’t expected her to look like a Shinigami or whatever in real life, but Steve couldn’t contain the mild surprise he felt at seeing her look so normal, so pretty.

He watched her for a few long seconds before his stomach made an embarrassing sound and he hastened to the bathroom.

When he stepped back out, Darcy was sitting up in bed, looking lost. “Morning, Cap,” she mumbled blearily when she saw him.

Steve stared at her. “Is that my shirt?” He hadn’t seen it before with the blanket tucked around her shoulders but that was definitely his shirt she was wearing.

Darcy looked down at herself and promptly went red. “Sorry,” she said, giving him a sheepish smile. “All my clothes are at the tower and I didn’t wanna sleep in my costume, you know. It’d be so uncomfortable.”

“Right,” Steve said awkwardly. “Of course.”

There was a pause in which Darcy gathered all her hair and pulled it up in a ponytail while Steve gaped at her like a silly fool.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when she caught him in the act.

He looked away. “No-nothing. Do you, uh, do you wanna…?” He jerked his thumb toward the bathroom. “We can get some breakfast once you’re ready and leave within the hour. Clint’s already called twice.”

“What did he say?”

“Your car’s at the tower. Tony fixed it.”

“Awesomesauce. Give me ten minutes.” She must have forgotten she wasn’t wearing any pajamas because she flipped the blanket right off her body, only to gasp loudly and cover herself again. Her mortified gaze found Steve’s. “Uh… could you?”

He gulped and nodded, dutifully turning his back to her. Soft pitter-patter of feet rushed past him and Steve tried not to think about what he’d see if he suddenly turned around.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he called when he heard the bathroom door slam.

“Okay. Do you have a pair of jeans or shorts that I can borrow?”

“Nothing that would fit you,” Steve responded honestly. She was too petite to fill any of his clothes. She’d drown in them. They would engulf her whole—and, honestly, he didn’t want to think about Darcy Lewis wearing his clothes. He really didn’t.

_Dark hair, short, mouthy… well endowed._

Dammit, Clint.

———

“So the rain stopped,” Darcy said conversationally, digging into her newly arrived plate of pancakes.

She kept shifting around in her seat and Steve could only imagine how uncomfortable her leather pants were making her feel. She seemed to think they had shrunk overnight, and with his shirt still wrapped around her ample curves, Steve didn’t have the heart to disagree with her.

“Elise said it rained all night,” Darcy continued, giving him a meaningful look. “In the city as well. Imagine being stuck indoors on Halloween.”

“Yes,” Steve deadpanned. “Worst thing ever.”

“Whoops, forgot who I was talking to.”

He immediately regretted his sarcasm. Darcy didn’t seem offended but he still owed her an apology for the way he had behaved last night.

“Ms. Lewis—” he began.

“Darcy.”

He was caught off-guard for a second. “Darcy,” he repeated experimentally, then nodded and went on. “I wanna apologize for the way I behaved last night. I was—I was a…”

“Ass, prick, jerk?” Darcy filled in helpfully.

“Grump?” Elise finished, popping up out of nowhere.

Steve looked from one woman to the other in disbelief. “I was going to say impatient and condescending.”

“Sorry, I thought we were being honest here,” Darcy teased at the same time that Elise asked, “Aren’t those the same thing?

Steve glared at them for a minute, then gave up with a chuckle. “All the girls are sticking together. Nice.”

Darcy grinned. “I’m sorry, too. I was angry because I couldn’t go to the party. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s fine. Just bad circumstances. Guess we’re all to blame.”

“Not me,” Elise piped up. “I was perfectly nice from the beginning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve muttered in with a roll of his eyes. “Now get outta here and let us eat in peace.”

She huffed and walked away. “Some Captain America.”

Darcy giggled. “She doesn’t believe me.”

“Good.”

They ate in companionable silence until Steve’s curiosity finally got the better of him. “So, you live in the tower?” At Darcy’s nod, he wondered, “Since when?”

He had only been gone six weeks and there were already new people at the tower who were suddenly best buds with Clint Barton and getting their cars fixed by Tony Stark? Exactly what and how much had he missed while he was away?

“About a month, I think. When Tony recruited Dr. Jane Foster, she brought me with her.”

Foster was a familiar name. Where had he heard that name before?

As if reading his thoughts, Darcy offered, “She’s Thor’s girlfriend. I’m her assistant slash caretaker slash guinea pig. I know everyone through her.”

“Aaah,” Steve murmured, intrigued. “So why did you leave the tower yesterday if you didn’t wanna miss the party?”

“I went to see a friend. She’s the one who procured the leather boots and silver belt buckle for me. She lives, like, two hours away from the tower. Thought I’d be back in no time.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Now I realize I shouldn’t have risked it. Stupidest decision I ever made.”

Steve smiled. “Well, you couldn’t have compromised with the kind of costume you chose to wear.”

“Exactly! I’m glad someone understands. Thank you!” She took a big gulp of her coffee and slumped in her seat, satisfied. “To tell you the truth, yesterday wasn’t all that bad. Elise and Dave loved my costume, and I got to sleep in Captain America’s bed. Pretty good deal, if you ask me.”

Steve flushed pink. “Well, um, it doesn’t really count since it wasn’t my bed. But you’re welcome to try the one that’s in my apartment in Stark Tower.” He cleared his throat. “If you want.”

Darcy burst out laughing. “Smooth, Captain, very smooth. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Suppressing a grin had never been so hard. He ducked his head and tried not to be too proud of himself.

“So, what’s the story about you and your birdies?”

Steve choked on his pancakes. “Dear God, I’m going to kill Clint!”


End file.
